Child's Play
by T. R. Myers
Summary: Prequel to movie set in SG-1 universe. In 1992, Colonel Jack O'Neill investigates an alien crash only to learn that hostiles are terrorizing the Midwest. Meanwhile, a policewoman fosters a mysterious and frighteningly gifted young girl who appeared with with the crash. The death toll rises, O'Neill may have a spy in his midst, and this girl may be the key to ending this nightmare.
1. Forward

Welcome to my story. In light of a guest review that elaborated on a certain problem with this story, I thought it might behoove me to add this as a forward.

"Kalinysta 5/12/13 . chapter 1

Well, while I like the idea behind this very much, and I appreciate your attention to grammar, spelling and punctuation, I have a very hard time believing that a group of teen/pre-teens who have lived on a planet under the Goa'uld as slaves, and are basically illiterate, have suddenly figured out how to fly a spaceship! Come on. That's like saying a bunch of teenagers from the local middle school go and steal the space shuttle and figured out how to fly it.

"The first rule of writing is to follow Gene Roddenberry's maxim of Make it Believable.

"Now if you had a Jaffa who decided to save these kids who flew the Al'kesh into Earth's airspace and then was killed in the crash... that would be much more believable."

Actually, Kalinysta, if you had read it more closely than you did, you would know that I was saying something even more outlandish; the youngest of that group figured out how to operate the Alkesh all by herself and taught the others how to do it. She then became fluent in English in seven days, French in two days, and memorized every book she read. In other words, Aylala was deliberately written with qualities that allow her to act as a dues ex machina. Dues ex machina means "god from the machine" or in martial terminology, "ghost in the machine", and by its proper definition, the dues ex machina is something that is introduced at a crucial point to solve a plot, such as in Ancient Greek theater, a god lowered onto the stage that makes an alteration to the plot, usually to get the protagonist out of trouble. The purpose of writing a main character as a dues ex machina, or a character that literally has the capacity to manipulate the story as he or she wishes is to obey Horace's statement in Ars Poetica, that a god from the machine must never be used to solve a plot.

The alternative, as is used here, is to make the main character exceptional in skill or ability, a variation on the "superhero". If you continue to read, you might realize that this story is largely written with Greek mythology in mind, and not only does Aylala function as a dues ex machina, but a dues ex machina is, in fact, scheduled to make an appearance in this story to help Aylala out of a jam, a plot device akin to a superhero being saved by his more powerful (or perhaps already deceased and therefore ghostly e. g. Kal-El and Jor-El, Jor-El probably being the best modern example of a dues ex machina) father, or a Greek hero being saved by a god. I chose for Aylala the bow and arrow as a weapon of choice, first for its current popularity in current pop culture (e. g. The Hunger Games, the Avenger Hawkeye, Arrow) but more for its heavenly associations; Artemis/Diana, the huntress-Orion, the Hunter-Apollo, the god of the sun-Cupid, the god of love…yes, Cupid's use of the bow was a tremendous factor in my decision. Bastet is another example of a bow wielding goddess.

My thinking in giving Aylala her skills was to give her abilities beyond the realm of what we would consider possible, and yet to give them a mundane quality, to give her a combination of gifts of and skills that interact in such a way that they make her a genius; superpowers that real people could really be born with in the real world…perhaps outlandish but not outside of the realm of possibility. Who is to say what such a person could be capable of and as a point of fact, Gene Roddenberry has often used children in his stories in such a capacity. One of the questions that the characters in this story are constantly asking is "How can this girl be able to do what she does?" Well, if there was an easy answer to that question, I doubt that Aylala would be as interesting as she is.


	2. Arrival

Set before the 1994 movie, definitely a prequel, set in the Stargate SG-1 universe. Warning: contains some harsh language, violence on minors, and teen pregnancy.

# # #

Space was an empty uninviting place that could never be home, especially in an alkesh that was designed only for fighting and carrying troops. Six refugees had taken the ship. They had never seen anything so magical before, and the herbalist they had brought with them, Janala very nearly believed Ra to be a god once again. What could they expect? Their best and mightiest weapons were the crossbows that their artisans made for hunting. They knew nothing of these flying devices. It took all of Rodmalga's understanding to remind Janala that this ship was not magical and Ra was no god.

Aylala remembered the day they stole it as clearly as it was yesterday. She was the youngest of group, only twelve, but she had bled just a year before, and as per the tribe's tradition, she walked the path after bleeding six times, and now she was a woman of the tribe, but they hadn't chosen her to join them because she was particularly skilled, and indeed, she was as good a fighter as Rodmalga, but because of her mind. She could not forget, a talent that had attracted Ra's attention, and she became one of his favorite Chess opponents.

Ra would often brag before his Jaffa that she was the only human that he could not beat. His ship would come once a year for the supply of the mineral Ra forced Aylala's people to mine in the hills. He would spend a month and would demand that Aylala come and replace his regular Chess opponents. He played her several times a day, never winning and would smile with glee. Losing was a novelty to a creature as ancient as Ra.

One day, Aylala had said, "You don't like to lose. Why do you enjoy it when I win?"

Ra smiled. "My dear, you have a rare mind. It is not losing I enjoy; it is seeing you succeed and outdo yourself, one who could become one of my greatest servants. Would you like that?"

"No," said Aylala flatly.

"You do not like me, do you?"

"I hate you." She could feel the angry glare from Ra's first prime. How dare she show such insolence! Yet, for some reason, Ra tolerated it from her.

"Why do you hate me?"

"You make us into cattle, and everyone goes from day to day, with no will to live, except only to survive."

"I protect you."

"And we starve."

"I educate you."

"And we still cannot find what we need to make it from day to day."

Ra seemed to enjoy these displays of insolence as much his Chess matches, and he would engage her in such discourse every time they played. He would ask her hypothetical questions about his rule, would often ask for a detailed expression of her hatred. She soon realized that he was testing her logic, making her think about her answers. Then she learned to her horror that Ra was grooming her to be the host to his next daughter.

"You will be the first of my children in a thousand years truly worthy of being a god." He looked at the other children around him in contempt, and Aylala realized with disgust that they were all like him. They were his children, possessed by these parasitic false gods. That was when she fled. Five had agreed to accompany her and to keep her safe from the despot—despot was one of her favorite things to call Ra whenever he asked.

They did not know how to work the alkesh, but one way or another, Aylala was not going to be Ra's daughter. She had chosen to leave her jungle home behind rather than suffer that fate, so in the dead of night, they had managed to gain access to the alkesh without the Jaffa noticing. They didn't have long, but as long as nobody checked the alkesh, nobody would notice their presence, so Aylala did what she was best at, she found anything she could read, and she studied it. Ra had outlawed reading and writing, but it was a law that could not be enforced and Aylala quickly discovered that the crystal on the right side of the console was an operator's manual.

There was no immediate pursuit. Ra and his soldiers were licentious creatures, unaccustomed to such bold displays of disobedience. Their response was slow, and Aylala smiled as she imagined Ra's rage at his Jaffa's incompetence. Her smile dissipated as she realized that Ra would probably take it out on the villagers. There was nothing to be done about that now. If she went back, her cohorts would be killed and she would suffer a fate worse than death as Ra's daughter and likely his protégé. He seemed to think that she had much greater potential than his other children.

For two years, Aylala now fourteen, Ra's Jaffa had pursued them from planet to planet. There was no safe haven for them. Over the years, Aylala had taught everyone else how to operate the ship, but that couldn't prepare them for the inevitable fight in space. Eventually, the lo'tek that Ra had sent after them had caught up with them. It was superior, but Aylala and her crew weren't going to give up without a fight. Samrenga was best with the weapons, so he, in addition to Empalga were charged with fighting them off, if possible.

In Washington, D. C., a middle aged man sipped coffee while sitting in front of computer monitor. His work station looked like the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, or mission control in NASA, but this really had to be most boring job in the world, unless one counted "tollbooth attendant". To his right was a radar screen, to his left was a satellite picture, and in the middle was a screen that scrolled readouts of activity, mostly transcripts of communications chatter from airports and U. S. airbases. An alert line came out in red: "Unidentified craft outside registered flight path". It gave a series to coordinates of all known locations and projected path. The initial contact was over Greenland and it was now directly over Washington in the span of about…that couldn't be right. That thing had to be moving at MACH 9 to get that far that fast. Nothing on Earth moved that fast. He considered that a moment.

He called out to his supervisor, "Hey, Jan, are there any space shuttle missions I don't know about?"

She called back, "Not for another month that I know of. Why?"

"Something just came out of the stratosphere moving at 10,000 miles per hour. It shot over us just now."

Jan's eyebrows moved together and she said, "Point a radio antenna at it. See if it talks back."

On the alkesh, they had no chance. In a system with nine planets, their ship finally failed them. Aylala barely managed to steer the craft toward the only inhabitable planet in the system, the third from the sun, but the lo'tek was in hot pursuit. As the blue planet loomed in the distance, their only luck struck when Samrenga managed to disable the lo'tek's engines, putting them in the same situation. Then something happened that Aylala didn't quite expect.

The speakers crackled and someone spoke in an unknown language. "This is air traffic control to unidentified craft. There is no craft registered on your current course. Please identify yourself."

Aylala had never heard the speakers talk before. The Jaffa certainly didn't bother to contact them. The voice repeated the message. Aylala consulted the operator's manual, and activated the communications device. She addressed them the best she could, but to no avail. They could understand her no more than she could understand them. She wanted to tell them that she they were crashing. She wanted advice. This man must have some knowledge that she could use to get out of this. She began to cry for help repeatedly.

She heard over the speaker, as if the man was speaking to someone else, "I can't understand a word she's saying, but I think she's calling a 'mayday'."

A new voice, came over the speakers, this time belonging to a woman. "Unidentified craft, what is your situation?"

Aylala cast about helplessly. She consulted the operator's manual again, and not sure if it would work, activated the translation function. "Help!" she called.

"Repeat: what is your situation." Aylala couldn't believe it. She could understand the woman.

"We're crashing!" Indeed, by now the ship was shaking intolerably, virtually everything in it producing a deafening rattle.

"We're about to lose you on radar. Can you tell us your exact trajectory?"

"I'm not sure exactly. I don't know where I am."

"Please, just stay calm. Fasten yourself into your seat and have your passengers do the same." Aylala did as she was told, her crew following suit. "Now, do you have any control over the craft?"

"A little."

"On the angle of your trajectory, I want you to level the craft with the ground the best that you can, trying to keep the nose angled a little bit up."

"The controls are very hard."

"Pull as hard as you can. You have to get your nose up." After another moment, she said, "We're about to lose sight of you. Once you're down, stay where you are. Rescue services will be there momentarily."

Just seconds later, they slammed into the ground. The hull beneath them screeched and grinded dreadfully. Machinery and controls broke loose around them. When everything stopped, Aylala looked around, shaken, afraid of what she might see. There was no doubt that the voice in the speaker saved all of their lives with her advice. Still, she wasn't so sure about waiting for strangers to find them. Who would they serve, and what would they do when they found them? She supposed they would rescue them, as the term "rescue services" implied, but then what? Would they deliver them to servants of Ra?

As for Jan, she was busy trying to locate the craft that had just left the monitors. They had been able to calculate its landing point as somewhere in the east part of Missouri. That part of the nation was largely rural, but it had several large metropolitan areas. She could only hope that it didn't go down in downtown St. Louis or Jefferson City.

"It came out of nowhere," said the operator that had initially contacted the craft. "Satellites picked it up at an extremely high altitude."

"Any idea what it was?"

"We didn't get any visual. It was moving way too fast. What we did get suggested it was the size of a medium passenger airplane."

"Angle of trajectory?"

"It came out of the north over Greenland, so high it was almost suborbital. It was moving like a bullet and literally screamed over us. I don't see how anyone could survive a crash at the speed that thing was moving."

An analyst approached with a printout. "We've narrowed it down. It went down within thirty miles of Springfield, Missouri. A report on a crash in that area came through about five minutes ago."

Jan simply shook her head. "From Greenland to Missouri in fifteen minutes; damn right it was screaming. That sounds like a call to the Air Force."

"English definitely wasn't her first language," said the operator.

Reports started coming through regarding a UFO crash in the Mark Twain National Forest in Missouri, twenty miles due west of Rolla. "That would put it right in the Springfield area."

The analyst said, "Rescue services found the craft intact, two bodies, both male, and evidence of a fire fight. 'The craft is of an unknown type, with equipment unlike any we have ever seen. Weapons fire was heard during approach to site. Second craft found crashed of similar design two miles due north of initial crash sight."

Jan said, "This is getting out of hand, fast. Get me General West's office."

In the Mark Twain National Forest, Aylala ran as she and the survivors separated, trying to throw the Jaffa off. These woods were not like the jungle she was accustomed to. There were unexpected hazards here. She was trying to cover her trail, but with the terrain so different, she wasn't sure was entirely successful. Leaves and twigs blanketed the ground making it impossible for her not to break something with her footfall. Even hardened soldiers might not see the tracks, but she had no doubt that at least one of the Jaffa hunting her was an experienced tracker. She made a silent prayer to find a river or a stream. Then she could work her way upstream a bit of a distance and throw the trail off that way.

As she ran, she ran across the path of a black snake. Having disturbed it, the snake coiled and struck violently. Aylala's reflexes were extremely fast, but even she was surprised when she caught the snake by its head, her thumb and forefinger properly holding the hinge of the jaws. She took a moment to examine the snake. It was a viper, likely very venomous. When its mouth was open, it appeared to be filled with cotton.

A Jaffa appeared in the woods behind her. He seemed surprised to find her. He aimed his zat'niq'tal and ordered her to surrender. She simply tossed the snake at him, which obliged by biting him on the hand. He dropped the zat'niq'tal to fend off the cotton mouth. The venom worked so rapidly that he became too concerned with his wound to pay attention to Aylala, who picked up the zat'niq'tal. She decided not to fire it and thus alert other Jaffa to her position. Instead, she attacked with a flurry of kicks that quickly incapacity the Jaffa, and knocked him unconscious. Her age did not matter. Ra would learn not to underestimate her.

The snake had clearly forgotten his ire and slithered off. Aylala continued her flight, now armed. She kept her eye open for a river or a creek. There had to be one nearby. That snake was of a kind that was most at home underwater. She didn't find a water way, but she found something that could work just as well. There was a strange black rock that stretched from east to west. It was apparent that it was a road, but what was this material that covered it? Whatever it was, it would not reveal footprints.

She ran along it for as long as she dared to be exposed. There was no activity along the road. There was silence all around, and when the birds fell silent, she quickly crossed and hid in the underbrush on the other side. From her hiding place, she could see two Jaffa step onto the road. They didn't see where she had hidden, but they had obviously spotted her on the road. Something caught their attention on the road. A strange humming grew louder and fell silent as some kind of self-propelled carriage drew to a halt. It was white with blue markings and it briefly made a whooping noise; clearly some kind of alarm.

A man stepped out of one side first, then a woman stepped out of the other side. They were uniformed and the woman had her hand on some kind of a weapon holstered at her hip. Her other hand held a device to her mouth and she was talking into it. The man was tall with closely cut black hair. His uniform was khaki brown and his pants were dark brown with a khaki stripe on each side. He had broad shoulders and muscular arms. His shirt was short sleeved. He wore metal badge in the shape of a shield on his chest. He wore a hat with a flat brim that went all the way around. There was an identical badge on the front of it. The woman was in identical clothing, minus the hat. She was significantly smaller, her shoulders narrow, and she was two heads shorter than the man. She had red hair cut in in a bob. She was in her early to mid-thirties. Among the Jaffa was Ra's first prime. He was watching the woman closely. She wasn't underestimating him so he wasn't underestimating her.

The uniformed man spoke. "Halloween isn't for a few months yet, is it?" He took a few steps and the junior Jaffa raised his staff weapon.

"No," said the first prime, "the female has already alerted others. Battling them would be a tactical error."

The woman was now alert to the staff weapon, though it must not have looked real to her, otherwise she'd have drawn her weapon. Aylala could see that she was on edge. If the Jaffa had actually pointed it at either of them, real or not, she most certainly would have had that weapon drawn and aimed.

"What language is that?" she asked. "Sound's Middle Eastern."

"Egyptian," said the first prime, now speaking the officer's language. "Forgive my friend. He does not speak English. We were at a costume party and I'm afraid we went out and got lost."

Aylala didn't know what they were saying, but the woman seemed to ease up, though she didn't take her hand from her sidearm. The woman said, "Gentlemen, you're miles from anywhere. Closest town is Pilot Knob. Only eight people live there and ain't any of them likely to throw a masquerade." The woman's accent was so heavy that even without understanding what she was saying Aylala could tell it was rustic.

"Well, we did go out last night. I realized we were in trouble when the sun came up, so we went looking for a road. We're lucky we found you."

She nodded. "Gentlemen, could we please step off the road? Truckers barrel down here like there ain't no speed limit." As everyone stepped in front of the vehicle on the shoulder of the road, the woman asked, "Where you boys trying to get to?"

The first prime said, "We aren't from around here. We really just need to get into town."

"Do you have any identification?"

"We did not know we needed identification."

The woman looked at the first prime, eyebrows raised. "You didn't know?"

"If you were from round hereabouts, that wouldn't be a problem, but you ain't, so guess what, gentlemen; we got a problem." The woman had a look on her face that Aylala had seen on many Jaffa catching someone in a lie. "You got a passport?"

"I'm sorry, Officer, I…"

The woman's weapon was out so fast, Aylala could scarcely see her move. "Put those things down and step over to the car."

The younger Jaffa was looking over to his first prime for instructions. The first prime said, "Officer, these are harmless toys."

"Drop them." These men were not reacting the way simple socialites acted when faced with a weapon. They were unwilling to relinquish what they said were harmless toys, and rather than follow instructions, they were conferring with each other. The male officer now had his weapon drawn too. The woman said, "Drop them and get on the ground."

The first prime nodded at the junior officer. The first prime rolled to the right, drawing the male officer's attention, but the woman wasn't falling for it. Rather than follow the first prime, she kept her sights on the junior and stepped back putting the vehicle between her and the first prime. The junior knowing he was still in danger rolled into the street and brought his staff weapon up. The bolt of energy missed the woman's head by inches, striking the side of the vehicle above the front fender. Another staff weapon blast from the other side of the car heralded the death of the male officer who flew clear over the vehicle and landed on the other side.

Opening fire on the junior, her bullets bounced off of his armor. "Some costumes," she said derisively. She fired off several more rounds, the Jaffa rolling clear so that his exposed flesh was not hit. She threw the weapon at him and used the distraction to go hand to hand. The first prime watched the fight with interest, then raised his staff weapon to kill the woman. Aylala raised the zat'niq'tal and fired on the first prime, striking him squarely. The other Jaffa pulled a dagger and struck the woman, though Aylala couldn't see where. To her credit, she didn't cry out, and didn't release her grip on the warrior.

Aylala stepped out and picked up one of the staff weapons. Leveling it at the two combatants, she shouted, "Jaffa, kree!"

They both stopped and looked up at her. The Jaffa raised his hands and came to his feet. Now that she had him, she didn't know what to do with him. She cast about, trying to think of something, anything. She looked at the officer and realized that she was carrying restraints. She took one hand off the staff weapon, pointed to them, and back to the Jaffa. Blood was running down the woman's arm, and when she turned, having understood Aylala's message, it became clear that the Jaffa's dagger was lodged in her shoulder. She still had use of the hand, but couldn't raise the arm.

He kicked out fast, hitting her in the stomach and knocking her to the ground. He drew a dagger lunged at Aylala. It was an act of suicide. He only attacked because he couldn't stand the idea of being captured. Still, Aylala had no choice, firing the staff into his chest. The officer stood up, and looked at Aylala. Aylala let the staff weapon drop to the ground.

The woman said, "Are you alright, kid?"

Aylala didn't understand. She simply pointed at the first prime.

"What? You shot him, too."

Aylala simply reached and grabbed the cuffs. The officer tried to stop her, but Aylala was simply too fast, and once the officer realized she wasn't attacking let Aylala continue as she cuffed the first prime.

"You mean he's still alive."

Aylala said, "I'm sorry, I don't understand you."

The woman found her language incomprehensible. She pointed to the Jaffa and said, "Dead." She put her hand on her chest and said, "Alive." She pointed at the first prime.

Aylala said, "Alive."

"Good to know." She reached around and touched the hilt of the dagger. It was easy to see that she was resisting the urge to pull it out of her shoulder. Pulling her hand back, she reached down and with her one good hand, dragged the first prime to the hood of the vehicle. She slammed him face down and searched him, finding a zat'niq'tal. Turning him over, she found two daggers. Her rough handling woke him up.

"It seems I have been captured," he said.

"You, sir, are under arrest for murder, two counts of assaulting a police officer, assault with a deadly weapon, assault with intent to kill, assault and battery, murder of a police officer, traveling without a passport, resisting arrest, obstruction of justice, and I'll have to think of a few more."

The first prime laughed. "So many charges for a single offence."

"We call it stacking. It's what we cops do when we want to make sure your punk ass gets nailed."

"And what about her?"

"What about her? She was acting in defense of a police officer and self-defense." She pulled her radio out and when it dangled from her hand in pieces she threw aside. "Dammit, you guys trashed my radio. That's another charge: destruction of police property." She checked her fallen partner's radio. "Two counts." She checked the radio in the car and threw it. "No power. That shot must have hit the battery. Oh well, someone will be along when we don't check in."

Only now that the first prime was secured, did she see to her wound. She pulled a blue box with a white cross emblazoned upon it from the vehicle and opened it. She pulled out a thick pad of cotton. She pulled the dagger out, grimacing in pain. Dropping it to the ground, she took off her uniform shirt, revealing the black body armor underneath and exposing her shoulder. She put the cotton pad on her shoulder. It was only when she sat on the hood of the car that she noticed Aylala's anxiety. She started talking to the first prime, becoming more and more agitated.

"What's she on about?" asked the officer.

The first prime simply smiled at her. Aylala started peppering him with commands, the same thing over and over. She picked up one of the staff weapons and aimed it at him.

"Whoa! No need for that," said the officer. "Boy, you tell me what she's on about."

The first prime sighed and said, "She is insisting that I alert you to the fact that I have many more men combing this forest and that they likely already know we are here."

"Damn." She pulled a set of keys from the column inside the vehicle and took them to the back compartment. Having removed the dagger, she regained some use of her shoulder. Opening the trunk, she pulled out another weapon like the one she had before, except much longer with a two foot barrel and a shoulder stock. Aiming it at the first prime, she said, "Up."

The first prime stood with only a little of his balance, unable to use his hands as leverage as they were shackled behind his back. "I wonder," he said, "why do you not disarm her?"

"I'd be dead if she wasn't armed. Now move." She threw her uniform shirt over her uninjured shoulder and gestured with the shotgun. They began moving along the road in the direction she indicated.

They needn't have been concerned. As the officer had anticipated, another cruiser had arrived just minutes later wondering about its missing patrol vehicle. The Jaffa had been under strict orders to avoid Earth's law enforcement. Two uniformed men stepped from the vehicle, appearing about the same size and demeanor as the dead officer up the road, although their hair was cut so closely it was difficult to tell the color.

The driver said, "What have we got, Carol?" He took in the sight of the bloody police woman, a young girl dressed in what appeared to be animal skins holding a strange weapon, and the restrained Jaffa warrior.

"Cop-killer. He and a buddy killed my partner and in the fight, the squad car got trashed. His buddy was gonna kill me, but my new friend here nailed him. They're up the road maybe quarter of a mile. Our cop-killer says there's more goons in the woods. Apparently, they're chasing this girl. Can't see why they'd need the hardware they got for a kid."

The first prime said, "If it's of any consolation, I had hoped—"

"Hey!" said the other officer. "Nobody wants to hear from you."

"I apologize." He said nothing further.

The officer looked to Aylala and said, "What's your name kid."

The first prime laughed and Carol said, "Yeah, Mike, there's a problem. She don't speak English."

"Comment te llamas?"

"Tried it. She don't speak Spanish either. No French and no German. Those're the ones I know."

"Name," said Aylala.

Carol looked at her and said, "Name." Carol pointed at herself and said, "Carol."

"Aylala."

"You sure learn fast, Aylala."

"She is special," said the first prime. "Our orders were to return with her at any cost. Our lord values her highly."

Mike said, "Yeah, well, your lord ain't getting her." Mike grabbed the first prime and shoved him into the back of a squad car.

Then, they waited as more police cars arrived. They blocked off the roads coming through this particular section. In twenty minutes, a large flying machine, a helicopter, white with bright red markings arrived landing in the middle of the road. Men exited the vehicle with a gurney. They treated Carol's wound. She insisted that she didn't need an ambulance assured them that she would go straight to a hospital to have the broken bones in her shoulder treated.

Not far up the road, a military convoy made its way to the scene. They were en route to the crash site, a small team of military personnel having already secured both vehicles. What they had found had been startling to say the least. Colonel Jack O'Neill had heard of government taking possession of downed UFO's but this would be his first time directing the recovery of one. They drove along State Route BB surrounded by forest. With the exception of Rolla, Springfield, and a few tiny towns, there was no civilization for miles around. It reminded Jack of the base in Creek Mountain where he worked.

It had been four hours since the crash. When it happened Jack had had to immediately take a jet to Lambert in St. Louis. He had hated that. Lambert was a civilian airport catering to the Air Force. The crowds and the civilian traffic had made a quick dispatch from there highly impractical. This would have gone more quickly if he had simply gone to Scott Air Base on the other side of the river in Illinois. It wasn't that much farther from Rolla than Lambert. Still, they had made good time. Then he saw the road block.

The convoy came to a halt, and Major Charles Kawalsky said, "What the hell is this?" Kawalsky took the truck out of gear, came to a stop and put the parking brake on.

Jack said, "Well, let's find out what the holdup is."

Jack and Kawalsky both jumped from the truck, made sure their uniforms were up to code, Jack having to adjust his beret, and they approached the roadblock. These were Missouri State Troopers and Jack noted that all four officers carried themselves like military. The officer in charge, a lieutenant, approached Jack.

"Gentlemen," said Jack, "we've got to have this road clear."

The officer said, "You're heading up to the crash, right? We had an incident on this stretch about an hour ago. We've got a medevac in the road right now and we can't open it until they leave."

"A medevac? What's wrong with an ambulance?"

"No hospitals nearby. Ambulances can't get down here fast enough in an emergency and all the fire departments are dealing with the crash. I'll call ahead and let them know you're waiting but if there's still an emergency, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. Lives come first."

"Ah, son of a..."

Kawalsky said, "Can you at least tell us what's happening?"

The officer said, "I don't know all the details, but I do know we've got armed men running around the woods. Some of our men flushed one of them out and they reported that he fired a weapon straight out of Star Trek. Apparently, this all started when two of these boys killed one of our officers and knifed another in the shoulder. She managed to apprehend one of them and we've got him sitting in a squad car now. We got a couple of the weapons they're using. We've never seen anything like it, not even on Star Trek."

Jack and Kawalsky traded glances. Jack said, "Can we have a word with this gentleman?"

Aylala was sitting in the back of a squad car next to Carol with a blanket wrapped around her. The paramedics had managed to procure some hot chocolate and the young girl was enjoying her very first mug of the sweet beverage.

Carol said, "You know, I have boy about your age. He plays in the school band." Aylala looked up with curious eyes. "You don't understand a thing I'm saying. That's okay. We can work on that. Get you some proper clothes and as soon as we get this all straightened out, we can found out where you belong."

Carol looked out the window and saw two men armed with M-16s and an automatic weapon she didn't recognize in full military gear talking to her suspect. "Stay here," she said, and gestured, holding her palm flat and downturned. Aylala nodded her understanding. With her good arm, Carol opened the door and stepped out to greet the military officers. Approaching them, she could see from their markings that one was a colonel and the other was a major. The major noticed her first and took a defensive posture.

"I'm Sergeant Carol Lawrence with the Missouri State Highway Patrol. Can I help you?"

The Colonel said, "Colonel Jack O'Neill, U. S. Air Force. This is Major Charles Kawalsky. You're the one who took the knife in the shoulder, Sergeant?"

"What gave it away; the sling on my arm?"

"Good work nailing this guy. Is he usually this talkative?"

"He is not a forthcoming fellow. We can't even tell how many there are, but there seems to be more than one."

Colonel O'Neill picked up one of the weapons sitting on the hood of the car. It was the large staff weapon that Aylala had been carrying. "It's got some good weight to it. Could probably use it as a cudgel."

Carol nodded. "If you do, use the stock end. It sends some kind of electrical charge out when you hit something with it. One of our officers figured that out hitting our suspect with it when he tried to take it. That ain't the neatest thing it does though. Aim at that tree and squeeze that hand grip in the middle." Jack did as he was told. The end of the staff weapon opened up and he could see it glowing. "Now squeeze it again."

A bolt of energy left the staff weapon so hard that it nearly knocked Jack off his feet. The side of the tree exploded showering splinters in all directions. Several policemen appeared, startled with their weapons drawn. With Carol's reassurances, they reluctantly holstered their weapons and returned to what they were doing.

"Now that's impressive," said Kawalsky.

Carol said, "I know I want one. I bet that bad boy would stop a riot right fast. It ain't very practical, though. It don't aim worth a damn. If you ain't never shot before, you won't hit the broad side of a barn with it."

Jack said, "I noticed. The recoil isn't too bad. I just wasn't expecting it. The thing is, it jerks really hard to the side when you fire."

"I guess you boys are going to take charge of this stuff. I'm almost willing to bet it came from that crash. I still need my evidence though. One of those is a murder weapon."

Jack said, "Then you're probably mad I handled it."

"Nah, we already lifted prints, but we still need ballistics."

Jack nodded and put the staff weapon back down. "Is the body of the other suspect still here?"

Carol shook her head. "Coroner already left with the body, but it shouldn't be any trouble getting the medical examiner to let you see it."

Jack nodded and said, "Kawalsky, let's take a walk."

As they walked off talking in undertones, Carol leaned against the patrol car and looked down at the first prime, who was sitting calmly, seemingly unconcerned about his predicament. Carol saw Mike and waved him over.

"Yeah, Carol?"

Carol didn't take her eyes from the receding forms of Colonel O'Neill and Major Kawalsky. "Take one of those staff weapons and get ballistics off of it now. I got a funny feeling they're about to grow legs."

Mike turned to look in the direction Carol was. "The Air Force?"

"Do you need to ask? I'm not even sure our boy's gonna be in our custody for very long. I want all our ducks lined up before these guys take charge. Are we on the same page?"

"With a bookmark and notations." Mike immediately grabbed the staff weapon that O'Neill was testing and called over another officer. They left in the other officer's squad car with the staff weapon.

Carol noticed that O'Neill had been watching. This would not be their last encounter; of that she was certain. They were able to reopen the road after another fifteen minutes and it was another hour before they were able to leave. Police organized a search through the forest, with the Air Force eager to help, for the rest of the armed men. Once they arrived at the station in Farmington, the question came to Aylala.

Her fingerprints came up negative. There were no missing persons reports in any foreign countries matching her description. She didn't look Persian, but she could have been. Her long hair was dark brown, her skin was pale, and her eyes were brilliant green. She was thirteen or fourteen and she was small for her age, though her body was very well developed. If she was from that region, that might be a long and arduous search. The question was ultimately what should be done with her while they looked for her parents or wherever she belonged. Nobody wanted to remand her to state custody. The DCFS juvenile detention was as bad as prison and everyone at the station agreed that was the last thing a traumatized young girl needed.

When Carol finally returned from the hospital, her shoulder immobilized in a splint, she offered to take temporary custody of Aylala in the meantime. The station chief, Captain Richard Crowe discussed the interesting nature of the case with her.

"I note here that you didn't tell Colonel O'Neill about this girl and her relation to the case," he said.

Carol shook her head. "Damn right, and I hope you don't. You know what's going on here. Nobody on Earth has weapons like this and that girl's language? I know we're in the boonies down here, but _somebody_ has got to recognize it."

"Then you believe the reports?"

"I do."

The Captain looked into his file folder for a full minute.

"Sir?"

He looked up at her, back down in his file folder, then said, "I agree. There's no reason they need to know about her if they don't ask. They've already asked for the weapons we acquired. What should I tell them?"

"We've already got the ballistics we need. I ain't interested in stealing super-duper alien stuff. I just want the collar on that creep."

"Then we'll go ahead and relinquish control. That should make Colonel O'Neill happy. He was expecting us to stall." He closed all his files, put them together, tapped them on the desk and put them in a drawer. "Major Deland's family still has to be notified."

"I'd like to do that in person, sir. They live in Chesterfield. It's on my way home."

The Captain smiled and nodded.

"About that, sir. I want to talk about my assignment down here. It's a three hour drive each way and then I've got a ten hour shift. It's murder. Honestly."

"I know. You bring it up every chance you get. Believe me, I understand completely. I've had to do it too when I was on patrol and I know it's Hell. First, I'm putting you on administrative leave for six weeks while you're dealing with your shoulder and for grief counseling. I've already spoken to your doctor, and based on what he told me I decided that when you come back you're going to be assigned desk duty for an additional six weeks. That'll be up in St. Louis. After that, you'll be put back on a regular beat. It'll be closer to St. Louis. I promise. District C is looking for more officers to cover Arnold and South Saint Louis County. You're also getting a promotion."

Carol jumped and landed with a squeak. "Lieutenant!"

The Captain smiled and said, "You've earned it."

Thankfully, her squad car only needed a new battery after the staff blast. It was her car, but she and Deland took turns driving each day. It was the newest model 1992 Crown Victoria. She preferred her old one, but the department insisted that they all upgrade. It wouldn't be so bad if they didn't have to pay for them. At least she was allowed to finance it. The department's logic was that if the officer damaged the vehicle, their own insurance had to pay for it—the department had gotten sick of paying the excessive insurance claims and in 1990, it was decided that officers had to own and take personal responsibility for their cruisers.

Because of her injured shoulder, the station mechanic replaced the battery for her. He also offered to patch the hole for her. He held up the old battery, which had been blown in half and melted. "Damn!" he said. "I've never seen anything do anything like this. I've seen batteries explode, but man, this is like the Predator shot it."

She made a note to contact the Ford dealer for a new fender. Aylala slept the entire way as she drove. It was midnight by the time they made it home. They would have made it home sooner, but the stop in Chesterfield to tell Deland's wife that he wouldn't be coming home took an hour. It was hard. The young widow was distraught, but she asked the details of what happened, and leaving out the strangeness of the case, Carol explained everything. Pulling into her driveway, she gave silent thanks for her administrative leave. It meant she could sleep in.

Her husband was up waiting for her, as always. He worked for McDonnell-Douglas and he needed to be up early, but he always waited for Carol. She didn't like him exhausting himself on her account, but she thought it was sweet. She could hear the sound of lightsabers coming from the television. A deep, sinister voice said, "The Force is with you, Young Skywalker, but you are not a Jedi yet." The moment he saw her, her husband stood and gave her a kiss.

He took a look at her and said, "What on Earth happened? Are you okay?"

She sighed and explained her entire day, getting tired of telling the same story, except she omitted nothing, not even the stuff she needed to keep quiet. When she was done and she had convinced him that her shoulder would be fine, she said, "Nate, I want to introduce you to Aylala. Nobody knows where she belongs, and we didn't want to put her in foster care so she's staying with us for a while. She doesn't speak English and nobody can figure out what her language is. We are also not telling the Air Force about her."

Nate said, "Oh, well, Aylala, we have a son about your age and his name is Nate, too."

"Naytu?"

"Nate. Well, Nathan." He looked at Carol and back at Aylala and said, "Are you hungry?"

Aylala's expression turned to one of longing and she nodded and rubbed her stomach. "Hungry."

Aylala, for her part, observed this new world and everything that was happening. These new experiences were sometimes hard to categorize, but some of them mystified her, some of them frightened her, some of them amused her, but they all amazed her. Crossing Carol's path had been more fortuitous than Aylala could have ever imagined, and she could only hope that she could pay her back for all that she had done for her.


	3. Memories and Mysteries

The wreckage was like nothing Jack had ever seen. They had simply come to pack it up, but that was easier said than done. The first wreck would be small enough that it could be easily moved, but there was no easy way to get to it as it was surrounded by federally protected forest. As such, it had to be removed piece by piece. That meant that he and his team could view it directly. There was no circuitry that any of them could recognize. There was no recognizable combustion system. The engines were constructed on principles that not even the most brilliant of their engineers could recognize.

The closest that any of them could come to explaining what they were seeing was when one engineer surmised that the crystals that were laced throughout the ship were the circuits, were the computers, and were the ship's systems.

Jack said, "You mean like on the planet Krypton?"

The engineer who posited the theory said, "Exactly, or like Superman's Fortress of Solitude."

"Okay, that would be really cool if it were possible."

"Well, maybe it's not possible for us, but it's clear that there isn't just us."

The next problem was the second crash. It was just as remote, and that ship was quite a bit larger. They were clearly the same technology, but what made the small crash more interesting was the fact that there were bodies…and they didn't die from injuries related to the crash. The injuries had been caused by those staff weapons. What was more intriguing was that the bodies were human, except that there were minor differences. Their medical examiner described them as a Darwinian "what if". What if humans had evolved on another planet?

Jack was no scientist, but it sure was an interesting question. Where had they come from? Why were they so decidedly human? Most importantly, what was the reason behind the war that had been brought to Earth's doorstep? Who was fighting who, for what reason, and what was their intention for Earth? He really wanted to have a word with that mysterious cop-killer that the state troopers had captured. He would have to ask General West about procuring the prisoner.

Coming out of the woods was another military team. General West must have decided that the murder and the armed assailants in the forest merited a special investigative unit. Then he saw who was in charge of the reinforcement.

"Shit," he said.

It was Colonel Simone Porter. He didn't hate her. He didn't dislike her. Regardless, he didn't want to be in the same state with her. She was a forty-something black woman with a statuesque figure, and a monumental attitude. She approached within ten feet and saluted. Jack returned the salute, though he was sure he didn't look very enthusiastic.

Simone said, "Well, if it isn't Colonel Jack. Who did you piss off to end up down here?"

Jack smiled and said, "Nobody. I requested the assignment."

"That's your story." She turned to the man beside Jack. "Hey! Kawalsky, you still hanging around with this loser?"

Kawalsky smiled and said, "He finds the best beer."

"Hey, shit. That's a good reason. I'm down for that." She looked at the wreckage. "So, humans flew it, but it's not human. That's what I was led to believe."

Jack said, "That's what it looks like."

"Meanwhile, accompanying the crash is a team of soldiers, equipped with weapons unlike any we have ever seen. Their techniques that have been observed, and were captured on the dash-cam of one Sergeant Carol Lawrence, are not unlike our own special forces."

"That's right. It's a shame that dash-cam was disabled so early in the fight."

"Still, it gave us some insight into what we're dealing with. They wear armor in a style reminiscent of the Ancient Middle East. They even wear kohl."

"Coal?"

"Kohl! K-O-H-L. It's black makeup that the Ancient Egyptians used. You'd probably call it eye-shadow. In fact, it's still used in makeup. It is eye-shadow."

Kawalsky had a strange look on his face as he said, "These badass soldiers wear makeup?"

"Kohl. They wear it in the traditional Ancient Egyptian style. Men and women used to wear it for religious reasons."

Jack looked at her strangely and said, "Funny you should say that. Our experts say that all of the writing in these ships is in Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics."

"I know. I've been keeping apprised. There's some very curious shit going down here."

Jack said, "What are you thinking?"

"There are some archaeologists that theorize that ancient aliens may have been involved in the birth of our civilizations, but the ones that come to mind whose specific focus is on Ancient Egypt are a Swedish national named Catherine Langford and an American named Daniel Jackson. Jackson has been in Giza for the past year, but Langford lives in Washington, D. C. She's been in my office too many times to count about some alien curio her father discovered and the Pentagon is keeping in a warehouse somewhere."

"'Alien curio,' you say?"

Simone nodded and said, "Her father found it in Ancient Egypt along with a mummy; a mummy wearing the exact armor your kohl wearing soldiers had."

A dim bulb brightened. Jack said, "That's why General West called you in."

"A lot of people in Washington think that the parallels between this crash and Doctor Langford's research merit further examination."

Kawalsky said, "So these really could be humans from another planet."

Jack said, "Well, it's safe to say that my Holy-Shit-o-Meter just went nuts. Do you suppose we could arrange a meeting with Doctor Langford?"

"If you can catch her when she's not running around Capitol Hill. First, let's make sure there aren't any death ray toting psychopaths in these woods."

"That's a problem. We found one in a catatonic state. He had a bad experience with a water moccasin. One is dead courtesy of the Missouri State Highway Patrol, and one is in their custody. All ground evidence suggests that there are seventeen more and that they are no longer around."

Kawalsky said, "Our guess is that they made themselves scarce when the cops showed up."

Simone said, "Bad guys usually do."

Jack said, "You should have seen it. They must have had fifty patrol cars on that little stretch of road. They had an onsite forensics lab and a mobile command center. The only thing missing was a donut stand."

"That's generally how they react to cop-killers." She looked at the wreckage with the teams pouring over it. "So, you're sure there are no hostiles in the forest?"

"This isn't my first rodeo, Simone. I've had snake-eaters out searching since yesterday. We've got infrared. We've got spy satellites looking right at us. We even have a few trackers, and we've got dogs out there. Hostiles were there yesterday. Today they're gone."

"Hey, it's good. I'm just covering my bases."

"Yeah, we need to broaden our search. If they're in the cities we'll lose them and we can't afford to do that."

Simone nodded and said, "General West's orders are to get this out of here and to Scott Air. Meanwhile, I've got possible alien soldiers to track. Once you're done here, you're to join me and assume operational control of the search. He seems to think you're better at this Boy Scout shit than I am."

"Am I?"

"Hell, yeah. Man, my idea of roughing it is forgetting to bring a can of Off to a barbeque."

Jack and Kawalsky both laughed. Jack said, "Sounds like a plan to me." He turned to the research team and said, "Okay, let's pack it up. You can play with it later."

# # #

Once Aylala was safe, reality hit her. Samrenga and Tophalga were dead. Jaffa had entered the craft and shot Samrenga before their very eyes. Tophalga gave his life to make sure the rest could escape. Now, Aylala was separated from the others, miles away with no way of contacting them. The only link she had to her home were the zat'niq'tal that Carol didn't know she had and the gatekey she had stolen from the police evidence bags.

She had to find a way to her friends and to continue their quest, which had lately been to return home and start a rebellion against Ra. Many planets had rebelled and now lived in freedom from the despot. Still, she had no intention of betraying Carol. After all that Carol had done for her, she would rather die than betray her.

If there was one thing that Aylala could say, it was that she liked Earth. In her life, she had never been anywhere like Earth. She liked hot chocolate. She liked hot showers. She liked rock and roll. She liked Star Wars. She loved, loved, loved ice cream. She also liked Nate, Jr., but she had no way of telling him, and she wasn't going to express it because she suspected that he found her a bit strange. She was learning, though. She was learning fast, and it wouldn't be long before she could talk to him.

For Carol's part, she was completely enamored of the young girl. She simply watched as the enigmatic young girl would pick up everything she saw and say its English name. Two days had passed and she was already forming sentences. That puzzled her and she began to seriously give thought to what her still nameless suspect had said about Aylala being special. She leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Aylala observing her world.

"Aylala," she said.

Aylala turned at the sound of her name.

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"Where are you from?"

Aylala gave her a puzzled expression. The word "where" was the problem. Carol wasn't sure how to express the meaning of a word as abstract as "where". She had taught the girl "here" and "there" well enough, but "where" remained a point of confusion. "Are" was another word that caused some trouble.

Aylala, in her mind, felt that the best way to understand this language was to listen to it. Her memory could not fail and she felt that if she heard enough instances of a word used in multiple ways, she would begin to understand it.

Nate called out from the living room, "Mom, where's the salt."

Carol had a similar idea and as she was pondering this very problem, decided to take advantage of it. She picked up the salt and said, "The salt is here."

Aylala put the pieces together. "Where!" she said.

"Where are you from?"

Nate said, "What?"

"Come in and get it. Your legs ain't broke."

Aylala pointed up. "I am from far away."

Two days, and Aylala could communicate like this. "That man said you were special."

"Jaffa?"

"Who?"

"The men you fought. They are Jaffa. They are after me."

"Why are they after you?"

"Ra chose me. My mind is…it is…" she held her flat palms to her head and tapped each side of the crown with her palms alternatingly. "Word…word…my mind is…" She snapped her fingers and pointed with both hands. "I cannot forget. I see; I never forget. I hear; I never forget. It stays in my mind forever."

"You have a photographic memory."

"What is photographic?"

Carol blew into her cheeks. "Well, a photograph is…this is a photograph." She pointed to a picture of her son. "And photographic; it's like, you see something, your mind takes a photograph of it and you can look at it whenever you want." It suddenly struck Carol that this was why Aylala was learning so quickly. If her memory was perfect, then nothing ever had to be repeated. She wouldn't forget things she learned. For her, learning was instant and once she learned it, she didn't have to practice. She could simply put what she learned to immediate use and make adjustments as she went. That was why after merely two days, she was speaking a comprehensible form of English.

Still, that seemed a stretch. Carol even worked with people with photographic memories. They weren't like this. They definitely could recall information nearly perfect, but to blow through a foreign language would be a bit daunting to them. This girl was on a whole other level. Regardless, her understanding of English was still painfully basic. She decided not to ask about complicated things until the girl had learned more. Instead, she tried to ask about something the Aylala knew. "Who are Jaffa?"

"Jaffa are Ra's…what is word…word…word…police? No. Soldiers. Jaffa are Ra's soldiers."

"And who is Ra?" And wasn't he a bit egoist calling himself that?

"Ra is the god of sun."

"Honey, Ra isn't real."

"Yes, he is. He is…I do not know words."

Someone calling himself Ra and professing to be the very sun god of Egyptian mythology chose her for something, and it may have been for her memory. If she could learn complex systems exponentially faster than ordinary people, that would be very valuable. Carol was beginning to understand why these Jaffa were chasing her.

Throughout the day, Aylala continued to find a name for every new thing that she came across. It was a marvel how Aylala seemed to experience things much more deeply than other people. Carol had been surprised to discover that the girl was more than experienced with Chess; she knew so little about anything else. Still, Carol supposed she shouldn't be surprised. It was, after all, the oldest game in the world.

Festus, Missouri…

Three days had passed since the crash and Simone had managed to rather quickly pick up the trail of two men that may have come from the crash. They had happened upon a camp site where a family was vacationing from up north; a husband and wife and two daughters. Simone was sickened when she saw what the monsters had left behind. The father had been killed while fishing in the Little Piney River. It was more of an oversized creek than a river, but it was rich in rainbow trout. He had been cleaning a catch when his attacker stabbed him in the base of the skull.

The mother was back at the campsite, and had died trying to defend her children. She and one of her daughters died hiding in the tent. The other daughter managed to escape and had by chance encountered one of Simone's teams. The situation could no longer be contained. That had been well over fifty miles from the initial crash site and by the time Simone's troops could respond, they had already taken the family vehicle. They couldn't close off such a broad swath of the Mark Twain National Forest. To make matters worse, this was a high tourism part of the forest, with Rolla, the Civil War town of Pilot Knob, Lane Springs National Park, and Meramec Springs National Park in this vicinity alone. Traveling farther north was Meramec Caverns and further south was Branson. All of those tourist traps surrounded the Lake of the Ozarks and the Tantara Resort. Cutting right down the middle of all of it was one of the most historic stretches of Route 66.

That rural part of Missouri brought in hundreds of millions of dollars in revenue each year for the state and federal governments. If they shut this area down, even for a few murders, they'd take hell from the Missouri State governor's office. Jack's voice came over her radio. "Can I get a heads up?"

"Yeah, fucked up beyond all recognition." She looked at her watch. "Jack, I have a lead in Festus, a stolen Dodge Caravan that a couple of our targets may be cruising along in. Cops saw the license plate about fifteen minutes ago and let us know. A couple of my boys found another lead heading up to Pevely. Some kind of altercation with some bikers and a couple of Confederate flag waving rednecks. Which one do you want?"

"The Pevely one sounds interesting. I get kind of bored chasing stolen minivans. What's the story behind that one?"

"They murdered a family and stole their ride. They killed a nine-year-old girl that the mother was trying to shield. The fifteen-year-old got away and found Major Hartley."

"Ah, shit. I hope they resist."

"Damned straight."

It had taken another hour to get to Festus and Simone was worried the trail would go cold. Police made way for the Humvee and armored truck that came cruising up the street to examine the stolen vehicle for themselves. They were able to break the lock on the hatch within seconds and they found the abandoned armor in back.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Simone turned to Air Force personnel and to the police. "The guys who stole this van murdered a family of campers for it. We are beginning a manhunt immediately. I want all available officers looking for these guys. You're looking for men of Middle Eastern descent, fit and in shape, probably shaved bald. It is probable that they do not speak English. They do not have ID or if they do, they are not valid. They are armed and extremely dangerous. I want roadblocks at every exit from town. I want to stop all traffic crossing into Illinois. If you encounter them, do not engage. Radio for assistance."

Simone held up drawings of two men. "These are facial composite sketches of the murderers. I want these on the front pages of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch and the Chicago Tribune. I want them on Fox, ABC, CBS, CNN, and any other news source you can think of. If you have to defend yourselves, shoot to kill." A deputy sheriff took the sketches as she turned to her men. "We're starting in town. Look in every shop, every alley, every dumpster, every sewer hole, go door to door. I want these bastards. Get to it!"

Air Force personnel and police alike scrambled to obey. Simone almost expected the police to complain about taking orders from military, but nobody was going to say no to hunting a couple of worthless child killers. They didn't say a word about it.

She took out her radio and said, "Colonel O'Neill, come in."

"I read you, Colonel Porter."

"They were here. I've called a full scale manhunt."

"General West isn't going to like that."

"Sorry, Jack. These assholes are killing civvies. We have to ramp this up."

"Yeah, I hear that. Look, these bikers have our boys up here in hiding. We're going to see if we can flush them out. When we're done here, I'm going to see about making your manhunt statewide. There are a lot of these guys running around."

Simone said, "Sounds good. I'll keep you posted."

It was fifteen minutes later that Simone got a call from Major Hartley. He had found a couple of suspicious characters making their way across town. They looked like the police sketches and they carried themselves like military. The men realized they were being followed and they turned down an alley off of Olive Blvd. That had been their mistake. At one end, they met Major Hartley and two of his men. When they turned to go back, they met Simone and Captain Hauser.

"Where are you going, boys?" asked Simone. The men simply looked at each other and the back at her warily. "We just want to have a little chat. Been round about Pilot Knob lately?"

One of them drew a weapon, a small black device reminiscent of a Star Trek phaser. He began to fire off electrical bolts. As Simone and her men drew down, the Jaffa dove for cover behind a dumpster. The other one managed to break and run. "Nab him!" Simone ordered and she pursued the runner, following him across two intersections, never thinking that she was disregarding her own admonition that nobody should attempt to apprehend these men without assistance. He vaulted clear over moving cars. Simone rolled over the hoods. Following him down another back alley, he drew his own weapon of the same type. She drew her gun and put a bullet right between the Jaffa's eyes.

Hartley came across her radio. "We got him. We managed to rush him, and he's shackled now."

"Mine's dead. Get a body bag down here."

If Simone had been paying attention to the body, she might have noticed something interesting. She might have noted how the dead man's stomach undulated under the influence of something inside. She might have noticed a hideous creature breaking its way free. Unfortunately, she didn't notice the alien vacate its Jaffa, who carried and incubated it for all of his life. She didn't notice it coil and spring and when she felt it latch onto the back of her neck, it was already too late.

Meanwhile in Pevely, Jack and his men had a Motel 6 surrounded. Yes, two bikers who had been selling Civil War memorabilia favoring the Confederacy at a local flea market had noticed the decidedly Persian men and started trouble with them—after all, dressed in that armor and wearing makeup; they were asking for an old-fashioned ribbing. These alien warriors believing that they could easily dispatch these fools had attacked them viciously. They had underestimated the bikers and found themselves fleeing twenty of them, some of them old Hell's Angels, and thus, they holed up in a motel waiting for the trouble to pass.

Kawalsky couldn't stop laughing listening to the account. By the time every witness was done explaining what had transpired, Kawalsky, and indeed most of Jack's team had tears in their eyes. Jack said, "Thank you very much for your service, gentlemen, but we'll take it from here. We need them in one piece."

One biker said, "Hey, when I'm done shoving this broom handle up their asses, they'll still be in one piece."

Kawalsky almost screamed in laughter and coughed loudly to cover it. Two soldiers covered the door, staying at either side. A microphone was put on the door and the operator looked back and nodded, confirming that the room was occupied. The other soldier operated a fiber optic camera that he stuck under the crack of the door. Jack saw the two men, in full armor and kohl, with their staff weapons aimed at the window.

Jack stepped up the door with the troop on the right and pulled out a flash grenade. He signaled to break the door. A soldier approached with a battering ram. Jack pulled the pin on the grenade, released the handle and nodded. The battering ram swung, knocking the door off its hinges. Jack rolled the flash grenade and in two seconds a brilliant light filled the room. Soldiers rushed immediately into the room to find the warriors trying to ward off the light from the flash grenade.

There was no resistance. By the time they could see again, they were already surrounded and they were being physically disarmed. There were two shotgun blasts and both warriors were struck hard in their backs with beanbags. It was all over.

Five had now been captured alive, four by the Air Force, and one by the Missouri State Troopers, and it seemed he was the only that spoke English. When Jack finally rendezvoused with Simone, he noted a distant look in her eye. She was preoccupied and he realized she must have been thinking about the horror she had witnessed at the camp grounds.

"Hey, Simone, what happened earlier today at the campground, that's why we do this, right? We're here to protect people and get rid of the scumbags who do shit like that."

Simone nodded and continued to stare blankly into the distance. "I hope you never see anything like that. They did that to a little kid. The one psycho that survived; I wish we hadn't taken him alive." She stood up and walked over to the Humvee. Jack distinctly heard her ask for General West's office. He wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help but hear snatches of conversation. "I have absolute confirmation, sir," he heard. "These guys are looking for it, one of them had…" Jack couldn't hear the rest. "The Doorway to Heaven, sir." Jack happened to know that what she was talking about was classified above top secret, but it seemed like she wanted him to hear what she said. Her conversation was discreet enough, but it was still awfully public. Simone had to suspect that someone might overhear. Jack decided to say nothing as she passed him. "Jack, get some sleep. We have ten more to find."

They had no other leads but there was one trail leading them to Farmington. Simone checked into her motel room and went to the bathroom, but to not get ready for bed, but to confront the mirror. Her stare was so intense, it was a wonder she didn't shatter the glass.

:::You've done an excellent job, Simone. General West could very well reopen the Stargate thanks to what you've told him.:::

Simone continued to stare into the mirror. :::All right, why did I tell General West they were trying to locate the Doorway to Heaven?:::

:::Stop calling it that! Are all Tau'ri like this? Proper names matter and if you're too illiterate to use them, that doesn't make your name more valid.:::

:::What does a snake know about literacy?:::

:::Very funny. You know, this would be much easier if you'd just submit to me. I'm here. You can't change it.:::

:::Not a chance in hell. My granddaddy and my great-granddaddy were slaves. I'll rip my eyes out before I let you make me a slave.:::

:::You don't need to tell me. Our minds are one now. If you would only give in, you'd see you don't have to be a slave.:::

:::I just have to do everything you want, right?:::

There was a sigh. :::You're going to be difficult. I'll make you a deal Simone: don't tell your fellow Tau'ri about me and help me with my occasional interests, and I'll leave you in peace. Beyond that, all you have to do is let me enjoy your life with you. I am with you for the rest of your life, Simone. You do realize that?:::

:::Shut up.:::

:::We may as well be friends. I would hate to live with an adversary.:::

:::Shut up.:::

:::I can be a very good friend.:::

"Shut up!"

# # #

A 20-sided die rolled across the walnut surface of Carol's kitchen. It bounced off of a book and landed on 17. "That's a miss," said Josh. Nate and his friends were playing a game they played every Saturday. Josh rolled the die again and it landed on one. "Goblin gets a critical hit on you, Derek." Josh rolled a 4-sided die. It landed on three. "So that's six hit points you lose."

"Shit," said Nate.

Carol called from the living room, "Watch your mouth, Nate."

"Sorry, mom."

Barry had been bringing his girlfriend to their meetings. When they first met her, they were a bit reluctant, as she was one of the girls that was often seen in the school cliques. They warmed up when they realized that she just as much of a geek as they were, and she even had her own character sheets and polyhedral dice. It was her turn now. She rolled the d20 and it landed on one.

Derek said, "Why can't I ever roll a one?"

Josh ignored him and said, "Critical hit. You have the short bow plus two, that's…" Jack rolled a d8 and it landed on six. "12. You've defeated the goblin."

"I mean seriously. Everyone's rolling one except me."

Barry's girlfriend, Michelle said, "I wish I was rolling one."

Nate said, "My mom's a cop, Michelle, and she's in the other room."

She shrugged. "So? I have freedom of speech. I'm allowed to say that. Just because I say it doesn't mean I'm doing anything illegal. Josh, does the goblin have anything useful on him?"

Josh said, "You find seven gold pieces and a potion of healing. You also find 18 arrows."

"I'll take it all."

Derek said, "So who's the girl staying with you?"

Nate said, "She's some girl that got lost down in the woods. They can't figure out where she's from so she's staying here until they do. Why?"

"She's hot, that's why. You can't tell me you didn't notice."

Nate's mouth suddenly became very dry. He had, in fact, noticed. Aylala tended to favor clothes that hid very little of her. From what she had been able to communicate, she had been raised in the jungle, which might explain her toned body and why she favored very short shirts, and shorts. She may have been of small stature, but her legs were of the sort that gave her the illusion of height.

Derek put it a bit more crudely. "Damn, she's got legs that go forever."

Michelle looked Nate right in the eye and said, "Nate, your face is as red as a beet. I know you're looking. She's living with you. You have to be looking."

Josh said, "Are we playing or are we discussing the assets of the new girl?"

Barry said, "Yeah, that's right. Dungeon masters don't have sex drives."

Josh said, "Come on, are you sitting here waiting for an attack or are you moving on?"

Nate said, "Continue to Neverwinter."

Nate noticed Aylala watching them. Her eyes were wide and curious. He knew she was trying to learn, so he didn't say anything about it, but it made him feel nervous. It felt a bit creepy. He also got the sense that she wasn't just learning the language, but that she was observing their behavior. Absolutely everything amazed her, especially the television, which she planted herself in front of whenever it was on. She was unique.

On the pretense of going to the bathroom, she walked in and looked at the books. If she knew what they were, what would she think about this fantasy game that so many people in the world derided. She looked like one of those unapproachable girls at school, who looked absolutely perfect no matter what they wore. He could easily picture her carrying a Chanel handbag and wearing large pink hoop earrings and styling her hair with so much hair gel it looked like plastic.

When everyone packed up and went home, Aylala asked to see Nate's book.

"You like the pictures?" he asked.

"Yes. I want to read it, also."

"Can you read English?"

"I am learning." He handed her his player's handbook. She looked at the cover and said, "Forgotten Realms."

"Wait, you said you were learning."

"I am. The words that people say are on the bottom of the television. I learn a lot from it."

"You're learning to read by comparing the captions to what people say?"

Aylala nodded. "Is that bad?"

"No. I'm just really amazed that you can do that."

Aylala smiled uncertainly. "In my tribe, I didn't learn until many years that I was the only one."

"'Tribe?'"

Aylala nodded. "That is the word you use for a large family that lives in their own village. I was youngest to learn how to shoot a bow. My mother was frightened when she found out I could read. We are punished for reading."

"You're not allowed to read?" What kind of place was this girl from?

"I read anyway; everything I can."

"Where are you from?"

"Very far away." She sat down at the table and set the book down. "It is a place called Akakor."

Nate sat also, now intrigued by this young girl. "Why did you leave? Why are those men chasing you?"

Aylala looked down at the book then said, "What is this you do?"

Nate didn't pursue the subject. "It's a game. It's called Dungeons and Dragons. We meet and pretend to be adventurers fighting evil monsters. An adventurer is—"

"I know the word. Mom always tells me it is good to pretend." Her voice became heavy as she spoke.

Nate chuckled uneasily. "Well, when we get you back home you can tell her about everything you've learned here."

"I can never go back. I will never see her again." Her voice broke on the last word and tears started streaming down her cheeks.

Nate scooted his chair next to her and said, "Sure you can go home."

She shook her head, a distant look in her eyes. "You do not understand this thing. There is nothing waiting for me there, and if I went back, my mother would not be pleased to see me. Her faith is absolute and I refuse to pray to a false god."

"So where will you go?" He realized that only five days had passed and now she could speak English relatively fluently. She was simply too amazing.

"I will stay in this place. I am tired of running, and I like your Alice Cooper."

Nate laughed. "He's one of mom's favorites."

"Who is your favorite?"

"Oh, well, I guess there's a few. I like Jon Bon Jovi, Ozzy Osbourne, Metallica; I like ACDC. Bryan Adams is cool."

"How do you know his temperature?" She knew she had gaffed when Nate snorted in laughter.

"No, I mean, I think he's good. Cool is…it's slang. You know what slang is?"

She nodded. "So if I think something is good, it is cool?"

"Right."

"Cool. Then hot is bad?"

"No, we say…well like…we say something is hot when it's really popular and a lot of people think it's cool."

"This is very confusing. If I like something, it is cool, and if a lot of people like something, it is hot. That makes sense?"

"Well, it's like…hot is fresh. You know, when you cook something and it's fresh out of the oven, it's hot so…"

"Ah! So things that are new are hot."

"Not just new, but also good. It's new, but everyone loves it and has to have it."

"So it's cool."

"Exactly. You understand."

Aylala regarded Nate in wonder and said, "This place is very strange."

"Hot can also be…well…when someone thinks that someone else is pretty, or handsome, you might say that they're hot."

"Shouldn't you say 'he or she'?"

"I have bad grammar: sue me."

Aylala smiled, "I don't think it merits a legal discourse. 'Sue me', is also slang, is it not?"

"I think so," he said quite seriously.

She looked away and crossed her arms. "You're teasing me."

"Just a little."

She smiled and said, "So, if you say a person is hot you are saying that he or she is pretty or beautiful."

"Yes. For example, I think you're hot."

Aylala blushed, the blood filling her cheeks and forehead unevenly, and smiled hesitantly. "Well, now I certainly feel hot."

Whatever nerve had compelled Nate to say that, it had disappeared. He had never been so forward with women in his life. There was a sudden realization that he had made a pass at a beautiful woman and she hadn't stapled his mouth shut with his teeth. In fact, she had smiled. Now, the discourse that had come so easily moments before would not come. When he finally could speak, he said, "What does your name mean?"

"My name is from the true language. Ra demands that we speak his language, but there is a language of the tribe. Ayla is my name at birth and it is what in your mother's plant books is called 'bird of paradise'. La is the designation given when any woman comes of age and prevails in her rites of passage. La means 'woman' and it tells you that I have earned the right to hunt for my tribe and to go to war."

"'Go to war'?"

Aylala nodded. "We are taught to fight with our hands and feet when we first learn to walk. It is important to know how to fight because if you are out of arrows, what will you do if you are attacked and you cannot use your hands and feet?"

"So, who do your people fight?"

"We are peaceful, but sometimes other tribes invade and try to take what is ours. There are also many wild beasts. I often wished my people would have the courage to fight Ra and his Jaffa, but their might is greater than the bow and arrow or the hand and foot." She looked at him with her brilliant green eyes. They were truly mesmerizing. "You do not know how to fight?"

"Are you kidding me? My mom makes sure I have regular Tae Kwon Do classes. I'm an orange belt."

"So, I am hot." She looked at him with narrow eyes and a shrewd smile.

"You're really hot. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

She smiled broadly and said, "Cool." She opened the book and turned the pages, looking at each for a couple of seconds. She went through the entire book in this manner. He realized that he had seen her go through every book she picked up in this manner. Did Aylala truly have a perfect memory? When she was finished, she looked at him. "Nobody has ever been as kind to me as you and your family." She leaned over and kissed him. True, it was a small, quick kiss, a simple peck that was so brief one could scarcely say it happened, but it was on the lips and to Nate, it felt like a jolt of electricity. She stood up and went into the living room.

Carol came in and sat down at the table across from Nate. Nate, for his part, didn't even notice. He seemed to be in a state of shock.

Carol said, "You know, Nathan, I don't want to be the kind of parent who says, 'you can't date this girl,' or, 'this isn't the right girl for you.' I don't think any of that about Aylala. What I do have to do is remind you of this girl's situation. Nathan, you do realize that you are making this complicated?"

Nathan looked up and said, "What do you mean?"

"While you're sitting here getting attached, there are people looking for her home and there is a very good possibility that very soon, you and she will be worlds away from each other."

"She said her people don't want her."

"I heard, but we don't know all of the circumstances. She's fourteen, on her own, in the middle of a place that's strange to her…I'm just saying that you're inviting heartache, and I don't want to see you hurt."

Nate was still too stunned to completely register what was mother was saying. Almost without thinking he put his fingers to his lips, touching the spot where her lips brushed his.

Carol smiled morosely. "You know, she really is something special." She got up and with her good hand, patted Nate on the shoulder.


	4. The Domestic Life

The seventh day after the crash, Carol had her splint removed and the doctor had decided to pin the bones together. It was the first time Carol had had such a serious injury and she was not enthusiastic to spend a night in the hospital. Since her initial hospital visit had been to a Barnes-Jewish branch in Farmington, she had to make the ride into St. Louis City to go to the Barnes on Forest Park Drive. She wasn't enthusiastic to make that drive. She was even less enthusiastic to have surgery. Her husband came with her for emotional support, but Nate had school, and for some reason, she didn't want Aylala coming near a hospital.

"Can't you just set them and put a cast on?" She asked the doctor.

The doctor shook his head with a patronizingly sad smile. "I'm very sorry, but the bones that are broken simply can't be set in a cast. They have to be manually held in place."

"They don't hurt. Maybe they're fine where they are?" she asked hopefully.

The doctor laughed. "This is completely routine, I promise you. It's a small incision and if you like, we can use a local anesthetic instead of putting you under. It'll be no worse than a trip to the dentist's office."

"I ain't heard of a soul spending no night in the dentist's office," she mumbled.

The doctor said, "Is this the tough sergeant I heard about that took a knife to the shoulder and didn't even squeak; afraid of a visit to the doctor?"

"You ever watch 'Kingdom Hospital'?"

"You're in very good hands, I assure you."

Carol simply moaned and prepared herself mentally for what was to come. It didn't actually take them that long, but she wasn't going to get her cast until the next day. She wasn't looking forward to having her whole upper body immobilized. Her husband would come back the next day to take her home. They kept the volume down on the TV in the hospital, so she read the book she had brought along, 'Queen of the Damned,' by Anne Rice.

Fortunately, the cast was a new variety, much thinner and didn't cover half of her torso, like she was afraid of, though it still went across her collar bone and looped around her neck. Her shoulder was immobilized, but she could still move her forearm. Plus, it was immobilized in the normal hanging position so she didn't look like an idiotic Frankenstein reject. She wasn't home for half an hour when there was a knock at the door. At first, she thought the woman with the over-permed hair and devil-red suit was a real estate agent until she flashed her badge.

"Ah! Family services," said Carol.

"Hi, I'm Margaret Chambliss. You are looking after a minor child that is," she looked at her paper, "a witness to a murder named Aylala?"

"Yes," said Carol, "come right on in. Would you like something to drink? If the kids haven't struck, we should still have some lemonade, or if you like, I have Dr. Pepper and Sprite."

"Oh no, I'm fine, thanks. I understand the child doesn't speak English."

Carol let Ms. Chambliss walk around the living room, the kitchen, wherever she wanted to go. "Well, that was true last week but it ain't true anymore."

"Oh, so she's learned how to communicate a little bit?"

"That's one way of putting it."

"I beg your pardon?"

"She's got a mind like a steel trap. Once something goes in, she does not lose it. You'll understand when you meet her. Aylala?" she called. "Some of the things she says are truly unbelievable. Everybody that meets her is bamboozled."

Footsteps came walking from the second floor. Aylala appeared walking down the stairs and approached the strange woman warily.

Ms. Chambliss congenially said, "Well, aren't you a bit underdressed?"

Point blank, Aylala said, "I was raised in a jungle. I would wear less than this if your sensibilities in this place weren't so skewed."

Chambliss blinked in surprise at the proclamation. "I was under the impression that you could not speak English."

"I taught myself, Margaret Chambliss."

"How did you know my name?"

"It's on your clipboard."

She looked down, as if expecting something different. Sure enough, Margaret Chambliss was on a black plastic sticker in raised letters on her clipboard. "Well, I am here to interview you, make sure you're comfortable and settling in just fine."

Aylala said, "My mattress is made of springs. I have never slept on springs before. We made our mattresses from bundles of grass, or if we could collect enough, feathers from the gruutpa."

"What is a gruutpa?"

"It is kind of like a goose, except it has a long, sharp beak that it uses to pluck insects from underground and it makes a call like," she made a low pitched sound like gruuuuuuuu and then made a pop with her tongue. "Gruuuuuuuu*pop*, gruuuuuuu*pop*."

Carol pursed her lips, trying to stifle a laugh.

Chambliss said, "How did you teach yourself English?"

"How did you teach yourself English? I learned by listening to others, the same way you did."

"Where do you come from?"

"Far away."

"From where?"

Aylala sat on the couch and shrugged. "My home is called Akakor. I don't really know where it is from here."

"Akakor; that sounds familiar, maybe South American. How many languages do you speak?"

"Now that I know English, three."

"What are the other two?"

"My language is called the 'Tongue of Rakavla the Bold'. The other language I speak is the language of the gods."

Chambliss' eyebrows raised and she said, "Those both sound very poetic. Who are the gods?"

"Please, I would rather not talk about them."

Chambliss nodded. "Well, you seem to speak English exceptionally well. When did you start learning it?"

"Seven days ago."

"Come on, now. You're among friends. You don't have to lie to us."

"I never lie. If there is something I wish not to tell you, I simply do not tell you. If you have a tongue that betrays people, rest assured it will betray you, too."

"You really didn't know English seven days ago?" Skepticism was etched on Chambliss' face.

"The first word I learned was 'dead', the second was 'alive', the third was 'name', the fourth was 'chocolate', the fifth was 'shoes', the sixth—"

"Okay, I get the idea." Chambliss laughed. "You're fifth word was shoes?"

Aylala smiled and kicked her feet out so that Chambliss could see the Reebok sneakers, the first thing that Carol had bought for her. "I have never had shoes before. My feet are cozy."

Chambliss turned to Carol. "Can we talk in private?" Carol led her out onto the back porch. "Has this girl talked at all about where she's from?"

"She says she lived in a tribe. Ain't been able to drag more out of her with a pack of wild horses. You see how she likes to dress. She must have been somewhere awful cold before we found her because she was covered head to toe in animal skins. I mean, like animal skins as in what a cave man might have worn."

"The way she claims she learned English. That can't be true."

"All due respect, you ain't been watching her learn English. You ain't seen how she disassembles everything you say and picks out the words she's figured out. You ain't listened to her experiment with new words. You ain't seen how she can pick up a book the size of War and Peace, flip through it in fifteen minutes and then recite it perfectly from cover to cover. She did that with a copy of 'Ivanhoe' when she finally really figured out how the letters of the alphabet interact with each other. I'll bet she didn't even know half of what she was saying, and her pronunciation was perfect. She walked through the house ignoring everyone, trucking right through it. It took her all day. Now, every so often, she recites the little poem that's in it. I'm not even a hundred percent what it means, so I'm sure she doesn't know, but I think she likes the way it sounds."

"Well, she doesn't have anything nice to say about her home, does she?"

"She's real hard to nail down about that. When she talks about her home, and her people, she's full of pride. She misses it something fierce. I think something really bad happened, because when you start asking about it, she starts to get this mile long stare and she zips up."

"You've grown fond of her," Chambliss said with a wistful smile. "Do you have any kids?"

"I have a son. He's thirteen."

"That is the worst age. That's when their evil twins replace them."

"Nate's been okay. He goes through his teenage angst thing, but he stays out of trouble and keeps his grades up."

Chambliss smiled slyly. "Very close in age. Is there any chemistry between those two?"

"Well, you can be certain that Nate's noticed. I wish she'd cover up a little more…"

Chambliss said, "I'd be worried if he didn't notice her. What does your husband do?"

"He's an avionics engineer at McDonnell-Douglas."

Chambliss looked at the yard. She took note of the swimming pool, the garden, and said, "Any pets to go with that doghouse?"

"The dog passed away of cancer about a year ago. I just haven't found the right dog to replace him. My son has an umbrella cockatoo that one of his cousins gave him for his birthday a couple of years ago."

Chambliss nodded and said, "How long have you lived here?"

"Nine years."

"Okay, I don't see a problem with her staying here. We need to issue her a social, an ID, and we need to enroll her in school. She definitely learns at a high enough level to keep up with high school. This school district is…"

"R-9; she'll go to Mehlville."

"What is her last name?"

"She doesn't have one."

"Hmm…It's not as if she has a common name. I don't see how she actually needs a last name, but they might have a problem with it." She pulled a sheet of paper off of her clipboard. It was a triplicate form. She pulled the yellow copy off and handed it to Carol. "Take her to a driver's license bureau and give them this. Also, if her parents or closest relatives cannot be found, the default is to remand her to state care. If you want to adopt her, tell me now, because once the state has her they won't let a police officer adopt."

"Are you kidding?"

"No police, no FBI, no military: if you have job in which people regularly die, you will be turned down by the state for adoption. Private adoption is different; they'll let you. State's a bitch, so as long she doesn't end up in their system, you're fine."

"So you're saying if I want to adopt, you'll keep her out of state."

Chambliss nodded. "I'll register her with St. Vincent DePaul instead."

"Absolutely, I'll adopt."

Chambliss scribbled more information out. "Then, until we know for sure, we can use your last name. Her registration will give her all of the federal protections of any citizen. Her lack of a passport was an issue. It isn't anymore. We're sure of her age?"

"She said her birthday was 92 days ago. She has seen 14 harvests." Carol grinned broadly.

Chambliss chuckled. "She certainly has a colorful personality. We'll look into the story around her and we'll see about…do you think she might be eligible for political asylum?"

"Well, she's being chased by foreigners that speak the same language she does. I think it's definitely a possibility."

# # #

The trail through Farmington led Colonels O'Neill and Porter through Chesterfield. They were getting dangerously close to the St. Louis Metropolitan area and they didn't want these warriors getting any closer. It would be a nightmare if they made it to one of the more densely populated suburban areas like Creve Coeur, Manchester, Florissant, or Kirkwood. When Jack learned that there was a Six Flags in Allenton, on the very western edge of St. Louis County, he said, "We have to keep them away from Bugs Bunny, whatever it takes." It would become a media circus if they made their way to the inner city.

Simone said, "We can always sick the Tasmanian Devil on them."

A renaissance festival near Chesterfield Shopping Center would provide a good cover for Egyptian warriors, and these warriors definitely took advantage. Two men in Egyptian style armor wearing kohl—the witness, being a ren-fest veteran, had correctly identified it—had been wandering around the area. One of them robbed the Bank of America in the shopping center lot. Apparently, he spoke English. They found their way to the shopping center. There, a jewelry store salesman was found dead in the bathroom, his clothes missing. He was wearing a black Jones New York with a striped tie. The went missing with the death of the salesman was the one that robbed the bank and if he washed off the kohl and took that armor skull cap off, CCTV identification from the bank or anywhere else would be next to useless.

"Great," said Jack, "That must give us a thousand suspects in the next fifty yards. Why do these mall hawkers always have to dress the same?"

Simone said, "I wonder what he did with the staff weapon. It wasn't in the bathroom and nobody saw him walk out with it. He could be anywhere. This is a big-ass mall."

Jack said, "Well, we saw him on the bank surveillance cameras. The camera got a clear look after he killed that bank teller."

Simone shook her head in disgust. "You mean that grainy-ass picture? After he got two thousand in unmarked bills and blew that girl's head off, he came here made it really freaking hard to identify him. He could be on the bus to Mexico right now. This shit's for the birds." She shook her head and she said, "I'll start at the top. You start from the bottom."

O'Neill nodded and signaled for his team to spread throughout the mall. Simone sent her team to the second floor and she took the escalators to the third floor. :::You know he'll be impossible to find.:::

Simone hit the side of her head. :::Hey! We talked about this! You don't bother me while I'm working.:::

There was a chuckle. :::It's amusing how you still think you're in control. No matter. The Jaffa in the video; he's being groomed as Ra's next first prime. You'll never catch him without help.:::

:::What kind of help?:::

:::Well, not to put too fine of a point on it, but mine.:::

:::And how can you help me?:::

:::Simone, I am in your mind. That makes you a goddess; his goddess, to be precise. If you let me address him, he will bow to your every whim.:::

:::So this is another gimmick to get me to let you in my mind.:::

:::Simone, you're not getting it. I am already in your mind. I possess you from head to toe. Your struggle to resist is only the temporary illusion of freedom. I will eventually take full control. I would like to share.:::

:::Not a snowball's chance in Hell.:::

:::I will settle, in the short term, for a truce. I can show you the Jaffa and if you let me just briefly speak through you, I can promise he will obey your every wish.:::

Simone gave it some thought. She soon dismissed it. :::No. It's nice, you being all helpful and all, but if I let you take control, I might not be able to push you back out.:::

:::Simone, the only reason I do not take full control of you now is because you fight so hard I would be constantly exhausted, but I don't have to fight to take you. You do have to fight to keep me out. You will eventually wear down, I won't. Now, if you will agree, I can help you put a quick end to this investigation, and help you to save lives. I promise that I will not forcibly take your will.:::

That was an awful lot of moral dilemma for Simone to weigh. She could possibly put a quick end to this chase by submitting to slavery. On the other hand, if she chose to do the investigation the old-fashioned way, it could drag out for weeks, and several killers would likely escape. :::You win.:::

The snake showed her an image of the Jaffa in his full armor. Then she showed him what he looked like without it. Damn, he looked any ordinary Middle Eastern salesman. She'd have never been able to identify him.

The snake laughed and said, :::He could be the guy next door, couldn't he?:::

:::So, I'm just searching the mall to make sure I cover my bases. Where do you suppose he went?:::

:::He's still here. The police are still at the bank. He can't take a chance on them becoming suspicious of people leaving the area. He'll stay until the police are done questioning witnesses. Just keep searching. He's here somewhere.:::

:::Ahh…so my old teacher at Annapolis was right about always searching the initial scene.:::

:::Quite. Even if a day has passed, don't just assume the suspect has left. Make certain first.:::

Simone nodded. :::Okay, if I was ducking the police after two murders and a bank heist, where would I go?:::

She went downstairs to the Wehrenberg Theater and showed the ticket agent her Air Force ID. "There may be a murder suspect inside. I'd like to check the theaters."

She nodded. "Sure. Police have already been through, but they didn't seem to know who they were looking for anyway." She called a manager who escorted Simone from theater to theater.

The first theater they went into was thankfully mostly empty, then again, the movie showing had been out for a couple of months. It was hard to get away from the film, the sound was so high. "Um, Wayne, what do you do if every time you meet this incredible woman, you think you're gonna hurl?" "I say hurl. If you blow chunks and she comes back, she's yours, but if you spew and she bolts, then it was never meant to be." Simone stopped a moment and looked at the screen. "The shit they make these days…" She checked each face but none of them were her Jaffa warrior.

Leaving that theater, she went into the next one. "Ah, shit," she muttered. This one was packed. She should have realized that any Disney movie would be. "You're a lot smaller than my last master, or have I gotten bigger? Look at me from the side! Do I look different?" "Wait, I'm your master?" "That's right! He can be taught!" Fortunately, most of the people here were kids, but there were no disturbances. "Three wishes to be exact, and icksnay on the wishing for more wishes. That's it: three. Uno, dos, tres! No substitutions, extensions, or refunds!" She checked every adult face and by the time she was satisfied her warrior wasn't here, Princess Jasmine was saying, "Go…jump off a balcony."

The next theater wasn't as bad, but it still had a fair amount of people. This was one with Jack Nicholson and Tom Cruise. "What I do want is for you to stand there in that faggoty white uniform and with your Harvard mouth extend me some fucking courtesy! You gotta ask me nicely." "Colonel Jessup, if it's not too much trouble, I'd like a copy of the transfer order, sir." Simone hoped that her suspect was here. She didn't want to see the crowd for "Batman: Returns". As luck would have it, the Jaffa was sitting in the seventh row, in his victim's suit. She had found him.

Thankfully, the manager waited in the aisle while she worked her way to him. He looked up, ready to draw his zat'niq'tal when her eyes glowed. "Is this the respect you pay to your goddess, a daughter of Ra?" she said, speaking in undertones that still revealed the distortion in her voice. The Jaffa's eyes widened and he relaxed his grip on the weapon. "You are to do all that I say without question."

Simone found herself immediately back in control and she ordered the Jaffa to come with her. He stood and acted as any faithful Jaffa would.

The snake said, :::There now, Simone. That wasn't so bad, was it?:::

# # #

Aylala didn't understand why she needed to go to this school, and when Carol came home with her books, she was even more confused. She had already been given an aptitude test. Studying for it was educational enough. The test was redundant. Now she had her school textbooks. She found the math to be painfully easy. The history book conflicted with what she had already read in Carol's personal collection. The literature book only contained short stories and excerpts, samplings of famous authors. The mythology book was so full of comparative study that no real insight into any one culture's beliefs could be gleaned. Then there was French I—why did she have to learn another language? Interestingly, reading the French book gave her a greater insight into English.

That left the remainder of her course schedule. There was science, which she found to be the most interesting of all of the subjects. Then there was her last class that did not require a book. What could the last class be if it did not require books? What was P. E.? Of course, each page of her course books was immediately committed to memory. By viewing the Earth people's reactions to her, she realized that other people here must not have had her talents. That had been true in her home, but she didn't expect it to be true everywhere. There were people here with eidetic memories, some of whom could memorize as efficiently as she could. Still, it seemed that nobody could learn and comprehend the way she could or as quickly. She wanted to see if there were others like her and spending the last weekend at the library, pouring through references of exceptional people in history, she found that people like her existed, but were extremely rare. She was sure that Einstein had a mind like hers, as did Franz Liszt, Stephen Hawking, Steve Jobs, and Benjamin Franklin.

How would the school staff react to her? If the people around her were confused and disturbed by her capacity to learn and things she said, how would an organization in charge of her education react? The way school was described to her, she couldn't help but compare it to the Chess matches that Ra would force her to participate in. He would play against her and he would make his Jaffa and his possessed child gods play against her. None of them could win. Would they be fascinated? Would they be frightened?

She would find out. It was October, so school had already started a month earlier. The day she went to school, the temperature dropped dramatically. She hadn't realized that it would be so cold. What had happened? It had been so warm during the time she had been here. Where she came from, it never got cold. She hadn't realized such bitter cold was possible until she and her friends had been forced to take refuge for an entire month on a frozen planet. She had covered herself with heavy animal skins to survive. That was the last place she had been before arriving on Earth. If anything was certain, she knew that she hated the cold.

Carol gave Aylala a black leather coat, having seen how the girl liked her police jacket. Aylala couldn't stop herself from hugging Carol. The jacket was thin, but it was heavy and could be buttoned or zipped. The lining was a thin synthetic fur that could be removed by unzipping it from the inside. This was how it had been when she was younger, before her father had been executed by Ra. Her family had loved her. They had given her all they could. Her mother had been faithful to Ra and was overjoyed that her daughter had been chosen to become a host for one of his children. Still, for all of her life, she defied Ra, and one day, he decided to punish her. That was when things had changed, when her mother started looking at her in disgust.

Having lived in a village all of her life, she always arose before the sun, so nobody was surprised when she was the first one up and dressed, prepared for the day, only to find she had to change for the new weather. This Monday was a slow morning for her. Having read every book in the house, she had little to do and now the gift of the coat had reminded her of her old life, and of her dad. Ra had forced her to watch his execution. She was restrained by the first prime as the rest of Ra's Jaffa beat her father, electrocuted him, cut pieces off of him, and ultimately burned him to death. She had been nine and had been horrified. Ra did this because she hated him, but if he thought this would make her like him, he must have truly been insane. Whatever Ra thought, it had backfired on him. Aylala had become more aloof to him and for a time, she deprived him of the joy he took from her.

Ra moved his queen to the immediate space diagonal to Aylala's king. She couldn't take the queen because she was protected by Ra's knight. She couldn't move to the space away from the queen's diagonal approach because that space was guarded by Ra's rook. Ra said, "Checkmate," but there was no joy of victory. Indeed there was fury behind his eyes. With the back of his hand, he cleared the board, sending the crystal chessmen scattering across the throne room. Aylala's passive indifference infuriated Ra further. "Now you play no better than any of these other fools!" He gestured violently to the other children he had implanted false gods in.

Aylala said, "How could a mere mortal hope to beat a god in any endeavor?" She expected to be struck in the back of the head by the first prime for her impudence, but when she looked at him, his head was bowed and contrite. Was that sympathy that she saw?

Ra hissed, actually hissed at her. "What is this? Does your clever tongue no longer bite?" He flipped the board over, sending what few pieces were left sprawling. "How long will this defiance last?"

"If the great Ra cannot even control himself, how can he think to control me?"

"Perhaps I can think of another punishment for you."

"I would thank you if you sent me where you sent my father." That statement had an effect on Ra similar to throwing a bucket of cold water on him.

He said, "Obviously, I underestimated the impact of your father's demise. Perhaps you are under the impression that that worthless scum is worth any pity."

Whatever else was going on with Aylala, she hadn't been in her right mind, and when Ra insulted the father he had ordered killed, she literally vaulted over the table and recalling everything she knew about fighting, attempted to gouge his eyes. Ra was not human, though his body was, and he possessed strength far in excess of what his body was capable of, and yet he simply did not expect a nine-year-old slave to violently attack her god. He was too stunned to react, to defend himself, or to even yell orders. The first prime pulled Aylala off of Ra before she had a chance to do any real damage, but when Ra stood; his eyes were red and swollen.

"My lord," said the first prime, "I shall have this thing disposed of immediately."

"No!" said Ra. He stood and took a moment to recompose himself. "Return her to her village. She will return tomorrow as always." And that was how it was. It took three months and through all of Ra's rages, he never followed through on his threats. Aylala finally got tired of losing. Still, her mother blamed her for the death of her father, and she never let her forget. Her mother had changed after that. It was as though she had become a different person, and she surely hated her youngest daughter.

Her thoughts turned to Carol, Nate Sr., and Nate Jr. They were the family she had always wanted and she couldn't think like that. Odds were that sooner rather than later, she would be fleeing Ra's Jaffa again, a homeless drifter. If there was anything of value her mother had taught her, it was how to survive. Children of the village were raised by the village and everyone had seen the changes in her mother. When she tried to banish her daughter, they defied her. She had calmed down a bit after that, but she never again held any love for her daughter.

The bus ride was noisy and not conducive to introspection. School was just as chaotic. Her councilor took her to her locker, which since she was starting as a sophomore, was on the first floor. Freshmen got the ground floor, juniors got second floor, and seniors got the third floor. The organization confused her. Why wasn't the ground floor the first floor and as most of her classes were on the top floor, wasn't the locker assignment rather inconvenient?

She had mythology first. The teacher was a rather dull, elderly man that droned on for the majority of the class after introducing her…and then forgetting she was there. The first teacher she mystified was her French teacher. When she told the teacher she had memorized the textbook, the teacher began to question Aylala about the course material. All bets were off when Aylala had revealed that she only began learning English a little more than a week ago. The teacher gave her a second level French course book to read. Aylala got the idea that the French teacher wasn't quite sure what to do with her.

The next teacher was her Social Sciences teacher. Apparently, this was the history teacher, but apparently, it was against school policy to call it history. This was where she found her first discrepancy in the textbook. "Mr. Higgins," she said, "may I ask you a question?"

Mr. Higgins considered her and said, "That was very polite, Aylala." He called the other students by their last names, and though she was listed as Lawrence, her record clearly reflected that she did not have a real last name. "Now, I understand that you may not be fully aware of the way we conduct ourselves, so whenever you ask a question, I'd like you to raise your hand." Aylala raised her hand. "You may ask your question."

"Mr. Higgins, according to this text, Betsy Ross was commissioned by George Washington to create the official flag of the United States, but based on the date of the meeting; it could not have taken place, since General Washington was at Fort Sumter at the time, nearly 300 miles south of Massachusetts. Was there a discrepancy in the dates, the location, or is this meeting a myth?" All of the students looked up at the teacher expectantly. Nobody had ever asked that question before.

Mr. Higgins smiled. "Finally, I have one with a brain. No, the meeting was a myth. The legend of Betsy Ross didn't actually start until 1870 when her grandson, William Canby began pushing information about this meeting between her, George Washington, Robert Morris, and her husband, Colonel Ross. You're absolutely right. The date of the meeting conflicts with the known location of George Washington, and there is no written record of any meeting having ever taken place. There was only one verifiable fact: the State Navy Board of Pennsylvania noted in its minutes for the date of May 29th, 1777 'An order on William Webb to Elizabeth Ross for fourteen pounds twelve shillings, and two pence, for making ship's colours,&c, put into Richards store.' That is a ships banner; not the Star-Spangled Banner. The truth is, we don't really know who made the flag, but after the end of the American Revolution, a banner maker that was routinely hired by the Navy billed Congress 275 dollars for the Star-Spangled Banner design. Congress voted not to pay.

"I'm afraid that our textbooks and educational system aren't as concerned with accuracy as they are with instilling in you a sense of national identity. A number of legends are passed off as real when, in fact, they either can't be confirmed, or just flat-out didn't happen. My advice is, once you're done with this, go to the county library and check out some real history books. There's an old saying: 'History is written by the mighty.' Don't take anything you learn at face value. Get some facts first."

Someone else raised his hand.

Higgins said, "Yes, Mr. Des Peres." He pronounced it Da Pray.

Des Peres said, "Why does everyone think Betsy Ross made the American flag then?"

"Because in 1909, William Canby's brother, George Canby, wrote a book called the Evolution of the American Flag that supported William's claims with more details, but more importantly, in 1893, at the Columbian Art Exposition in Chicago, he produced a painting by Charles H. Weisgerber called the Birth of our Nation's Flag that depicts the very meeting in question. There's a problem. This is a composite portrait and the artist wasn't actually there. Otherwise, he would have known that Betsy Ross didn't create the stars in a circle, if she created the flag at all. The Betsy Ross Memorial Association, founded by George Canby, sold ten cent memberships to buy Betsy Ross' house, a membership that included a copy of the painting. That's how the story got so widespread and that's why our school system accepts it as the truth."

Aylala made a production of flipping the book shut.

Higgins laughed. "You don't trust it anymore, huh?"

Aylala shook her head.

"Don't worry. Most of the information in there is accurate. Not all of it, but most of it."

"What about George Washington's cherry tree?"

"That was the typical BS that goes with a presidential campaign. You sure know how to call them."

Aylala said, "I was raised on grandiose claims and utter nonsense. What about the discovery of America. It says that Christopher Columbus discovered America 500 years ago, yet I read a book just yesterday at the library that describes thousand-year-old Viking inscriptions in Nova Scotia."

"Well, the conflicting stories there are both true. We simply have a case of two separate sets of European civilizations that did not associate with each other discovering America at different times. The Viking discovery doesn't count because ultimately, it did not contribute to the ultimate colonization of America. They did not contribute to our history in any way, so history books have a way of neglecting that discovery. If you search, there's another case-it's hard to find so you really have to search-in 1490, English settlers found their way to the shores of Pensacola, Florida and started a settlement. The local Native American tribes tried to help them settle in, but they were very independent, and they weren't ungrateful, but they wanted to do it themselves. After a year, the whole settlement was wiped out by a hurricane. They had no impact on American history, so now they're the chewing gum on the boot heel of history. You see, Columbus and Amerigo Vespucci had no way of knowing of these pre-Columbian discoveries, and they are ultimately the only ones who had a significant impact on history, so they get the kudos for discovering America. The Vikings did, at least, leave a mark, those carvings you talked about, and they got to name two regions: Nova Scotia and Newfoundland. That's about it. They get a notable mention."

Next came lunch. She thought she had gotten used to the strange food but she hadn't yet encountered the fruit embedded in a cup full of a gelatinous substance. The square that vaguely resembled pizza seemed rather unappetizing. The next problem was that the cafeteria was on the ground floor across from the commons. Her history class had been on the top floor and the other side of the building. The money that Carol had given her had proven to be enough for a full lunch and a bottle of water from the vending machine that Nate was kind enough to show her how to use. The only two classes she had with Nate were her last two, and they weren't until after chemistry.

This was also her first meeting with the fashion queens of Mehlville. The leader was a senior and she was dressed like she ready for a fashion show. "Thanks for bringing me lunch, new girl." The senior pushed Aylala to the side and grabbed her tray.

Aylala said, "I think you have made a mistake."

The senior said, "And what's that, new girl?"

Aylala pushed her tray into the senior's blouse, making a mess of pizza, gelatin, and macaroni and cheese on what appeared to be a rather expensive shirt. "Touching me," she calmly said. She opened her chocolate milk and poured it down the senior's blouse.

The senior said, "Bitch, you are so dead." She stood and balled up her fists.

Michelle was with them and she said, "Tiffany, this isn't worth it. Let's just go."

Tiffany wasn't listening. She threw a punch, but Aylala grabbed her wrist, pulled Tiffany in the direction of her momentum, swung her arm back forwards against Tiffany's momentum, and flipped her over so that she landed on her back, not quite missing a chair. Aylala couldn't be sure, but Tiffany probably had a very swollen kidney at the moment. Teachers and school security were there in moments, but everyone saw Tiffany throw the only punch, and Aylala moved so fast that most thought she had simply stepped out of the way.

When the teachers asked Aylala what happened, she said, "She wanted my lunch, so I gave it to her. It doesn't seem she appreciated it very much." Everyone who looked at Tiffany could see that much of the macaroni and cheese was still smeared all over her blouse, which incidentally was a Versace. There was also quite a bit of discoloration from the chocolate milk. As Tiffany was taken to the school nurse, Michelle broke into laughter, patted Aylala on the shoulder, and said, "Let me buy you another lunch."

Aylala asked, "Will she not bother me anymore?"

"Oh, you've made an enemy for life, but I guarantee she won't try stealing your lunch again. That was a 300 dollar shirt. Watch it. I think you have P. E. with us."

"Seniors and sophomores are in the same class?"

"In this P. E., yeah, all grades. It's kind of an elective you can take if you don't want regular P. E. You learn archery, tennis, racquetball. There's still running and sit-ups and stuff but not as much."

They would all later find out that Tiffany had to go to the hospital with a broken arm and a kidney injury.

For chemistry, Aylala held her questions. She found that reading about science and actually practicing it were two different things, and for this course, her phenomenal memory was not going to give her an advantage. Half-way through the class, she was allowed to handle chemicals. Five minutes later, they had to evacuate the room when a noxious cloud of gas started billowing from her work station. "I think I prefer history."

The chemistry teacher said, "Don't worry about it. You just used a little too much sulfuric acid. It happens. Science isn't perfect."

"I didn't know water could ignite."

The teacher raised his eyebrows and said, "That's the cool thing about science."

"Cool."

In English, she was able to sit next to Nate. Mrs. Davis handed Aylala a grammar book with the admonition that no grammar books left class without permission. For Aylala's benefit, Davis explained the assignment, which was to add proper punctuation to sentences that didn't have punctuation at all from pages 57 to 63 of the grammar book. Aylala, quickly copied the sentences down and punctuated them based on the rules of punctuation as she read them. Once she was done, she sat to the task of memorizing the grammar book. By the time she was done, there was still half an hour left. Nate had finished the assignment as well, and they started talking in undertones.

"How do you like your first day?" He asked.

"It's been a new experience. When I learned English, I did not have a textbook to show me my errors and how to proceed. The French textbook gave me a roadmap. I don't think the French teacher knows what to do with me. Math is all logic puzzles and the teacher doesn't care what we do as long as we finish the assignments. The equations are elementary compared to the problems that Ra tested me with. I think that class is a waste of my time. History and chemistry though; I don't think I can rely on the books to get me through those. I enjoyed those. This class, I think I can use to solidify my use of English."

"And that just leaves P. E."

"What is P. E.?"

"Physical education; they make you exercise and play sports."

Mrs. Davis said, "Nathan, you should know better. Young lady, if you've run out of something to do, you can read from the literature book."

Aylala said, "I already have."

"All of it?" When Aylala nodded, Davis said, "Then read it again. It couldn't hurt."

"There's no need. I have memorized it."

"You've memorized it?"

Aylala nodded. "I am told my memory is different from other people."

"Well, then you can tell me what it says on page 244, paragraph two." Davis opened the book and when she found the page, she said, "Any time now."

"'I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us away from each other. My own complete happiness, and the home-centered interests which rise up around the man who first finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to absorb all my attention; while with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker-street, buried among his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still, as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his immense faculties and extraordinary powers of observation in following out those clues, and clearing up those mysteries, which had been abandoned as hopeless by the official police.'"

Mrs. Davis signaled her to stop. "All right, I believe you. Can you do the same with the grammar book?"

"I already have."

Davis' eyes widened. "Not in the time you've had."

"I don't need to read the page. I just have to see it and make sure I've seen the whole thing."

Everyone in the class was staring at her in disbelief. Davis said, "Well, knowing grammar and understanding it are two different things. I hope you'll make an effort to understand what you've read. In the meantime, please don't disrupt my class."

"I am sorry, Mrs. Davis."

At the beginning of the last hour, she had to change her clothes into something exclusively for physical education. Carol had put clothes in the backpack for her and because she didn't have a lock, Michelle let her share lockers with her.

"Why do you associate with Tiffany?" asked Aylala.

Michelle shrugged. "We've known each other since kindergarten. All of her friends can't figure out why she hangs with me on account I'm such a nerd. Tiffany, it's only in the past couple years she's turned into a bitch, but I've known her, like, all my life. All of the other girls just pretend. They hang out with her because they think it'll make them cool. I figure I'm the only real friend she's got. I think that's why she's so mean. Everyone always cheats her or stabs her in the back. She's bitter, you know? It's not going to help her if her only friend turns her back on her."

Aylala had to think about that. It seemed that even when a person seemed totally deplorable, there was another side to the story. Now, she wondered what Tiffany's story was. It had to be more than just not having friends.

In class, there were students from all classes and their teacher announced that they were starting archery. The bows were made of fiberglass and were extremely light. "This is a bow?" asked Aylala derisively.

"You have a problem with it?" asked the teacher.

"Please, where are the real bows? I did not learn to shoot toys. I might break this pathetic thing."

The teacher raised her eyebrows. "Let's see you string it."

Aylala braced the bow across her shoulders, bending it backwards and strung it twice as fast as anyone else, who were following the teacher's instructions and bending them across their legs.

The teacher asked, "That's how you learned to string a bow?"

"The way the others are doing it is a lazy technique. Archers have to have strong arms for distance and accuracy. I'll admit, this bow is stronger than I expected—still not as strong as the long bow my father made for me."

Shooting was an interesting time. They had to go outside. Aylala found that the temperature was still too cool for her liking but she decided not to complain. She missed her first shot, not used to this new bow, but only her first shot. Every shot thereafter was a bullseye.

Michelle was a terrible shot. The teacher was a fair enough shot with a good stance, but she clearly didn't know enough to transfer that information to her students. She focused on telling the students to sight down the arrow and where to hold the hands, but she failed to explain the role that the rest of the body played.

"May I?" asked Aylala.

The teacher said, "Go for it."

"Michelle, first, you are holding your wrist to close to the bow. That wrist guard is making you careless. Take it off and you'll learn very quickly how to hold that bow. Second, it's not enough that you hold the hand grip and the white part of the string. You have to make sure you are in line. Both wrists, your right ear, and your right elbow should be in one straight line. Then you will be able to sight down the arrow."

Michelle nocked an arrow and drew.

"You're holding the bow too low. Raise it. Good. Your elbow is too low. Try to bring the fletching right next to your ear. Straighten up. Don't bend your knees. Go ahead and try." Michelle hit the bulls-eye, not perfectly, but it was on the red. Everyone clapped.

Someone said, "Let's see you shoot."

Aylala decided to show off. She drew four arrows and held three down. As quickly as she could, she drew, released, and spun another arrow into position four times and four arrows neatly grouped in the bulls-eye of her target in three seconds. There was a loud applause in the field behind the track. Aylala tried several more trick shots, still never missing her bulls-eye. Each met with resounding applause. She walked up and took the arrows from her target, leaving one. She fired one more trick shot, knocking the remaining arrow out of the target.

This teacher wasn't so pleased with her and she was held after class. "I think we need to discuss your deplorable behavior," she said.

"My 'deplorable' behavior?" said Aylala, bristling. "It is not as though I choose to be here."

"I have no idea what you're used to or what you think you're entitled to, but here you will follow the rules, respect your teachers-in this case me-and you will not disrupt my class."

"I didn't realize that correcting your errors was a disruption."

"Listen, child-"

Aylala lifted her finger and raised her voice. "Do not call me 'child'. You do not where I am from and how I have lived my life. I have never seen places like this before. I have never seen video games, or movies, or automobiles. I was born in a tribe. I never knew such things existed. I will tell you, this place leaves me unimpressed."

"You're unimpressed with this school."

"No, I am unimpressed with this society. The things you teach are all well and good. Your math and science are glorious things, but what good is your history when it is filled with propaganda and lies? You teach archery but your own education in the craft is questionable. What purpose does it serve if you are only going to give them a cursory education?"

"This is an elective. The point is to get you interested."

"And how do you evaluate me as a potential archer?"

"Sarcasm is not going to earn you any point. We both already know you top the charts on archery."

Aylala held out her wrist. A long scar like a rope burn went halfway up her inner forearm. "This happened when I was six. Ever since, I promise you, I always hold my bow perfect, and your bows are too pathetic to do this much, but they're strong enough that I bet they'll hurt enough to teach the same lesson. I did this on a real bow. I am proud of this mark. This mark taught me respect for my tools. This mark taught me how to aim my arrow and catch my dinner."

"I'll admit that is an impressive looking burn."

"I apologize for undermining your class."

"I can see you take this seriously." She patted Aylala on the shoulder and said, "Look, you learn a little self-control and let us get through to tennis, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good, now go and change. The bell will be ringing in a couple minutes."

(Next chapter, things heat up as O'Neill zeroes in on Aylala and on his search, encounters an enemy that may be more than the Air Force, or anyone can handle.)


	5. Complications

(Sorry to those who are getting this a second time, but I've added a forward to my story and all of my chapters moved forward.)

The captured warriors as well as the dead were sent to a secret location somewhere in Central Missouri. They still couldn't get the Missouri State Highway Patrol to release their warrior into Air Force custody, but now that didn't matter, as Simone had managed to capture one that spoke English and was willing to cooperate. His partner that had been with him in Chesterfield managed to disappear and now the trails of all of the possible alien warriors were going cold. They sat in a warehouse with concrete walls, a concrete floor, a simple brick exterior, and surrounded by several battalions of troops disguised as street thugs, drug dealers, prostitutes, and junkies.

The warehouse had holding cells, offices for Jack and Simone, and a lab for a medical examiner. Now, the medical examiner had two bodies of warriors in her lab, the one that Simone had killed, and the one that the police had killed. As things stood, two warriors were killed, one was recovering from snake venom, and six were in custody, five of them with the Air Force. That left nine at large. It had been a rather large scouting force, which led Jack to believe that they weren't on Earth to scout. They were chasing someone or something. Then there were the two human bodies, who Jack wasn't counting in the final number.

He sat down in front of the warrior. Simone stood just behind. Jack said, "I am Colonel Jonathan O'Neill, United States Air Force, and this is October 12, 1992. The time is…" he checked his wristwatch, "…0839 hours." He faced the warrior. "State your name for the record."

The Jaffa looked up as if considering an act of defiance. "Fal'ukert. I am a Jaffa in the service of Ra. I am second in command to the First Prime."

"Okay, none of your friends seem to speak English, so how is it that you speak it?"

"It is a device. Ordinarily, only the First Prime has it, but since I am being groomed to succeed him, I have one as well. It is implanted in my brain. It translates for me, and you hear your language when I speak."

"I see. The producers of Star Trek would be interested in that." Simone snorted. Jack continued. "Okay, you and your buddies have killed a lot of innocent people who were just minding their own business. May I ask why?"

"We had not anticipated coming to a planet with such heavy law enforcement. Those who had seen our faces were dispatched. Our orders were to avoid capture. It seems this has proven difficult."

"All right, our trackers said that there were a total of seventeen people leaving those ships. We've captured five, including you, the police have another, and we have two bodies. That leaves nine. Do you have any idea how we can find those other nine?"

The Jaffa looked to Simone then back at Jack. "There are only five more."

Jack's eyebrows went up. "Really? Our trackers were wrong?"

"You're trackers were not wrong. Of the nine you seek, only five of them are in the service of Ra. The other four are fugitives that we seek."

"What did they do?"

"They fled. Is that not enough reason to hunt them down?"

"No…I can't say that it is. I don't know how evolved you are, but I'm not primitive enough to chase something just because it runs."

"Very well. They are slaves. They're lives are not their possessions. They do not have the right to leave Ra's service, but by Ra's divine order, we only pursue one of them. If we find her, we may leave the others to their fates, but she is to be returned alive. If we run across them before locating her, they are to be eliminated. If we find her first, they are spared by Ra's grace."

"Are they human?"

"Of course they are."

"Look, I want an explanation of this. Those are alien space craft you were flying."

"They are vessels of the gods."

"And you are…?"

"We are Jaffa, warriors of the gods. Ra took us and changed us so that we could serve him completely."

"So how have humans come to be on other planets?"

"The benevolent Ra has taken them to all of the worlds of his realms."

Jack wasn't sure how his face looked, but he wouldn't be surprised if his eyes were the size of dinner plates. The implications were more than frightening: they alarming…as in "threat to national security" alarming. "So let me get this straight. Your Ra found humans a long time ago and enslaved them and started ferrying them to other planets so he could keep them enslaved."

"That is as Ra has said it."

"So why are you chasing this person, this woman."

"A child; she is very young. She has seen perhaps fourteen winters. Ra has always had a special interest in her. My First Prime tells me that Ra has directed the parings of families for many years to produce gifted offspring. She was born of a brilliant mind, whose sense of numbers never failed and she could never forget that which she learned. Ra planned on implanting his daughter within her, making her one of the immortal gods. When we told her of the great honor that was to be bestowed upon her, she and five others fled. They cried epitaphs of freedom as we pursued them."

A terrible sense of urgency flooded Jack. "Do you know where she is?"

"We lost her when the police arrived. She went with them and only they know where she is."

"She must be an elusive quarry."

"She is. She was born in a jungle in a primitive, bow wielding tribe. They make their houses from straw and their mattresses from bundles of leaves and feathers. They are exceptionally skilled at survival and know how to use the land against you. The only thing that keeps them obedient is their reverence for their priestess and their fear of our godly weapons."

Jack didn't finish the interview. All of the questions he had were blown from his mind, and ignored on his clipboard once he learned that a young girl was in danger. "Take him back to his cell. Since he's cooperated, give him a couple of creature comforts." Kawalsky saluted and escorted the Jaffa away. Jack turned to Simone and said, "What are you thinking?"

Simone said, "I'm thinking we've got to get to that girl before they do. Any ideas where she might be?"

Jack nodded, "We'll check with state but I have a feeling the police didn't remand her to state, which means she'll be staying with one of the police, and I'll bet it's a certain redhead I crossed paths with down in Rolla. The name is Sergeant Carol Lawrence. She was the first officer in charge of the investigation until she was put on leave for a knife wound to the shoulder."

"You're sure?"

"She was sitting with the girl in the squad car. I looked right at her. She was a tiny little thing. It never even crossed my mind that she could be neck deep in all of this."

"Jack, what are you thinking?"

"Simone, I've got a little boy and I know what I would be doing if he were being chased by these bastards. I don't care where she's from or how she was raised. She's a little kid and she needs help, now."

Simone nodded. "I'll get to work locating Carol Lawrence. What did he say about her having a talented mind? He said she didn't forget. We should also check recent school enrollments. Someone just might have thought it was a good idea to put her in school until this got straightened out. A foreigner who doesn't speak English and has a photographic memory is sure to catch someone's attention."

"There's something else about his statement."

"'The benevolent Ra?'"

"This Ancient Egypt thing keeps popping up, doesn't it?"

"I'm convinced. I've checked. We can't get Langford, but maybe we can find an Egyptologist in St. Louis."

Jack nodded. "I'll deal with that. Missouri University, St. Louis University, and are there any museums?"

"St. Louis Art Museum in Forest Park has ancient history exhibits. They're your best bet. St. Louis Public Library also has historians and archeologists on staff."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I read more than just the Sunday funnies, you know."

Jack rolled his eyes and said, "I want to have a word with Doctor Frasier. Let's learn exactly about these changes that our buddy was talking about."

The medical lab looked like any forensics lab. It had an autopsy table with sink and drain. It had medical rulers and scales next to the table. There was a table with a microscope, and set up next to it was some kind of apparatus made of glass and plastic tubes with a flame burning underneath a flask (a distiller). There were a number of devices that Jack couldn't even identify. The only reason that he recognized the distiller was because he had tried his hand at making beer when he was a teenager. Of course, he had quickly become acquainted with the word "moonshine".

The autopsy table occupied by the Jaffa the police had killed. Frasier looked up at Jack and Simone and said, "I sincerely doubt you're wondering about the cause of death."

Simone shook her head. "Pretty easy to see he's got a hole the size of Wrigley Field in his abdomen."

"Yeah, that was a problem. There was enough of his abdomen left to see that the cavity had somehow been altered, and it had nothing to do with alien anatomy, but there wasn't enough to see how it had been altered. Either fortunately or unfortunately, your fellow who was recovering from snake venom so nicely; he suffered heart failure."

"Heart failure?" asked Jack.

"Yeah, you know, water moccasins are dangerous, but they're not like cobras or asps. Most adults survive. Still, there are a percentage of adults that die from water moccasin bites. He looked like he was going to pull through, but then he went code blue this morning and they couldn't bring him out of it. Awfully interesting; the way his hand was bit, I'd say he was holding something. That snake came down from above. Do you see a problem with that?"

Jack said, "Snakes like trees."

"Not water moccasins. They like shorelines and still water."

Simone said, "The snake was thrown at him."

"Or kicked, or golfed, or any number of ways that snake could have gone airborne. If he had coiled, he would have come from underneath. From what I hear, he probably had it coming so it's no terrible loss to the world, or the universe, or whatever gallery we're playing in. He had something interesting his stomach."

Jack said, "What is it?"

Frasier reached into a jar with a pair of tongs and pulled out what appeared to be a snake. "This is what really killed him. You see, this little fellow was feeding enzymes to our fellow that kept his vital functions normal. When the water moccasin bit him, this creature was intoxicated as well. Its host survived, but it didn't. Apparently, its host couldn't survive without it. If it had been alive, I might have been able to tell you more about it. I can tell you this much: it comes from nothing that ever evolved on this planet. These guys are human; altered, but human. This is your alien. It's okay. It's dead."

Jack took the offered snake and looked at it. "It looks like it has the same dentist as the Predator."

"Excellent, you noticed the quadrilateral hinged jaw; ideal for burrowing and latching onto something. Colonels, those other two bodies were perfectly normal except for a few minor evolutionary differences that gave them away as not being from around here. One of them died of a self-inflicted wound to the head. I found another one of these snakes without its head. It had been lodged inside the guy's head, and from what I could tell, some of the pieces were attached to the brain stem."

Simone said, "Like what? This thing was controlling his mind?"

"Or trying to."

Jack said, "You have to ask, 'who do these guys claim is god?' Remember what he said? Ra had altered the Jaffa to serve the gods. Why did he alter them to stick snakes in their stomachs? And how exactly was this girl supposed to be made into a god?"

Frasier said, "I don't know what you discussed with that man, but it sounds like this girl is in very serious trouble, especially if these snakes are the gods we keep hearing about."

Jack dropped the snake back into the jar and looked for something to wipe his hands on. Doctor Frasier handed him a disinfectant sanitary cloth. Jack said, "No wonder she ran."

Simone said, "Anyone would. Jack we have to keep this under our hats."

Jack spun and said, "What? We have to go straight to General West."

"Jack. This is a girl from another planet. You know what they'll do and she's just trying to get away from these bastards. She's trying to keep her life. She's trying to keep her soul. General West will put her in a hole somewhere where there will be people sticking needles in her, extracting every bit of information out of her they can. They'll treat her like property."

"Look, General West is a father, too. He has two daughters. I sincerely doubt that he's going to sign an order to turn a fourteen-year-old girl's brains into scrambled eggs."

"General West answers to Senator Kinsey. That's the man with the money."

Jack inhaled sharply and nodded. "We can't just keep our supervising officer out of the loop. I know how I'll deal with this."

# # #

General West read Jack's report with all of the professional care that one might expect from a man of his position. West had flown out to Scott Air to personally oversee the recovery of the crashed space craft. Assigned a temporary office, West looked as if he belonged anywhere he went. He set the report upon his desk and said, "What do we know about the people these…Jaffa are pursuing?"

"Only what we were told, sir; that they were slaves, come from a primitive society, are survivalists, and one of them had been selected to be…I'm not really sure what."

"That isn't much to go on, but it changes the scope of the investigation. This operation is already top secret, but based on this information, I feel it has to be restricted further. This is being classified above top-secret."

"Sir, I still need to bring an expert on Egyptology in."

"If that's what you need to do. You know the procedures. You know how to procure a 312 Nondisclosure Agreement."

"What will happen to the people these warriors are after?"

West clasped his hands together. "That is not my decision alone. Right now, we need to focus on getting these remaining five warriors off the streets of our country and securing their targets."

"Sir, we're not honestly going to throw a kid in a hole somewhere and experiment on her."

"Like I said, that is not my decision alone and we have our priorities, and you have your orders. If you'd like a different assignment-"

"That won't be necessary, sir."

"Dismissed."

Simone was right. They didn't speak the entire time they were in Scott Air. Jack looked around as he drove by a high school, a lovely suburban neighborhood, a McDonald's, and a Walgreens, all in a military base. Scott Air was self-contained town except that those patrol cars belonged to military police. Every car came equipped with a driver side gun mount for an AR-15…okay, that was just being cynical. Maybe half of them came with gun mounts for AR-15s, or maybe M1 Carbines.

Jack said, "Can you believe this? Have you ever been on a base like this?"

Simone said, "Oh, sure. Camp Pendleton, Wright-Patterson; most of them are like this. You don't expect the families to live in barracks and eat c-rations, do you?"

"C-rations are better than McDonald's, anyway."

"What? Not enough beef in your factory farm by-product sandwich? You going to tell me how your meeting went?"

"I asked what would happen to the victims when we located them. His exact words were, 'That is not my decision alone.'"

"What then?"

"I don't want to discuss it until we're off base and out of this perfect little Stepford town."

"I told you, man. I told you."

Jack still didn't say anything after they left Scott Air. It wasn't until half an hour later when they were crossing the Martin Luther King Bridge into St. Louis that he said anything at all. "Can you believe they charge a toll to cross this piece of shit?"

Simone said, "They must be using the money to keep it from falling down because they sure ain't maintaining it. In fairness though, the only tolls are on the Illinois side. I think the toll is for route 3."

"It feels like my shocks are toast." Once they were off the bridge and onto smooth pavement, Jack said, "Okay. General West is definitely going to make these people disappear once we get ahold of them."

"So what do you want to do?"

"Lose the kid. I want to find the Jaffa. Whatever these people are doing, we'll worry about that when we get there. We need to protect this kid, make sure it doesn't get back to the Department of Defense, because they are the ones that will be putting pressure on West, and then we lose her. She's a kid. The state, the cities, the counties: they all have a ton of programs for missing and unidentified children. They won't find her any database, and odds are if this cop has taken her in, this will be a completely fresh start for her. Nobody even has to know. If General West has a problem with it, we can simply point to the fact that these aliens with this advanced tech can't catch her, and if she made it into a state program, we'll probably never find her. Janet already told us that the DNA is regular human DNA on every level, that the evolutionary changes were…what was that word?"

"Macroscopic."

"Right and whatever little quirks she has nobody will think anything of it. Nobody will be the wiser. They'll just assume she's a little strange, or a genius, like Beethoven or Einstein."

Simone said, "Okay, Carol Lawrence lives in the county, which means we need to head down to 55."

"Wouldn't city hall be right here?"

Simone shook her head. "I thought so, too. The county and the city are separate entities."

"Actually, why don't I head into the city and find my experts, and give you the car?"

"That works."

Jack took a cab to the art museum, having found nobody that specialized specifically in Egyptology (but every other kind of ology) at the library. The cab dropped him off at the city art museum in Forest Park. A statue of General Lafayette on a rearing horse greeted him in the main driveway. Walking into the ornate entry hall, he walked across the granite tile floor to the customer service counter. There was a young high school age girl writing something out wearing a navy blue suit with a museum tag on her collar. Jack noticed that the staff was all in identical garb.

She looked up and briefly observing his uniform, her eyes momentarily observing his name tag, said, "May I help you, Colonel?"

"Yes, do you have an Egyptologist on staff I could speak with?"

"Not on staff, but we have the Curse of Tutankhamen's Tomb exhibit here for the next month and they have two with them. Maybe the curator can help you."

As they walked, Jack said, "Shouldn't you be in school right now?"

"I am. My employment is part of a college incentive program that St. Louis offers inner city students. I get a day off school to come here for the whole day, every other day, except Thursday, in my case, I leave school an hour early, and for working at the art museum, I get high-school credit, college credit, and * dollars an hour, part-time."

"Good deal."

The curator was a rather small unassuming man, wearing a black suit. He had a receding hairline and wore black framed glasses.

"I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, U. S. Air Force."

"Colonel, I'm Donald Morris, I'm the curator. How may I help you?"

"I have a situation that I need to speak to an Egyptologist about."

"The Air Force needs an Egyptologist?"

"Trust me. The problem is even weirder than that sounds."

"Sure. I think Louise is free for the rest of the day."

Five minutes later, Jack was shaking hands with a blond woman in her mid-thirties. She wore a white suit with padded shoulders with matching skirt and kept her hair cut short. The shirt had ruffled collar.

"Colonel O'Neill, I'm Doctor Louise Knight. We're getting ready to pack up for the day, so if we can make this quick."

"I'm sorry, we can't make it quick." Jack looked at the curator and said, "I'm sorry, this has been classified above top-secret and I am extremely limited to the number of people I can have sign a nondisclosure agreement."

Knight said, "A nondisclosure agreement?"

"Yeah, basically, before I can talk to you about my problem, I have to have you sign an agreement saying that if you talk about this to anyone you can be…uh…you could get into a lot of trouble. I'll understand if you don't want to."

"Charged with treason, you mean. What on Earth would you need an Egyptologist for?"

"Well, if the curator would give us a bit of privacy and if you would provide a thumb-print, you'll find out. You see, I have this briefcase with a nice presentation and really classified photographs. I just need someone who can read Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs."

"Well, I'm probably an idiot for doing this, but now I'm too curious not to agree."

The curator left and locked door behind him and Jack opened his briefcase and pulled out all of the forms. Once they were signed, he explained the situation to her.

"Okay," she said, "where's the hidden camera?"

"No hidden camera. In fact, once we're done here, I'd like it if you'd agree to come up to Scott Air and take a closer look at the wreckage."

"All this for a crash? Doesn't the government have its own experts?"

"We do, but in this case, we have an alien battalion chasing escaped slaves, and killing American citizens in the process. The first victim was a Missouri State Trooper. Next was a family on a camping trip. They murdered the mother while she shielded her nine-year-old daughter and then killed the daughter. We have several in custody, and we have five more at large. We are looking for any clues we can at finding these people and putting an end to this."

"Okay, what have you found out so far?"

Jack told her about the interview with the Jaffa warrior Simone had captured. The entire time, he watched her face turn from careful attentiveness to stunned disbelief.

"Well, how can translating a few panels help?"

"It can help a lot. We don't just have a few panels. We've got part of a computer database, nearly a thousand pages, and it's all in Ancient Egyptian. We think some of it is an operator's manual for the ship, but there seems to be some kind of procedural documentation with regards to this military force. We don't know if it's a medical guide or a tactician's guide. Whatever it is, we think it can give an insight into who we're dealing with. I've got some pictures of it here." Jack pulled out a several images that had been taken and enhanced and handed the stack to her.

She looked them over and after about fifteen minutes said, "Well, you're right about this part being an operator's manual. It contains instructions for maintenance and operating the atmospheric drive systems, but this other stuff; these are…I'm not sure. There are stories of battles reminiscent of what we've read about on historical tablets and they have storytelling flair. It looks like it might be a crew log. Is this from the stolen craft or the pursuit craft?"

"That came from the one the human's took. Everything was trashed in the pursuit craft. The computer was toast. Absolutely nothing works. The human's turned out to be better pilots. We were actually able to recover quite a bit of stuff from their ship."

"Well, I have a name for your stolen ship. It's called an Alkesh, and it is a light, high-speed attack cruiser specializing in strafing and bombing attacks."

"That's something. If we get that crew log translated, we can at least understand the psychology of these warriors."

"From what I've been able to read here, think Sparta on steroids. They talk about ravaging villages of helpless people for the glory of Ra. They talk about battling against hopeless odds and prevailing."

"Well, can you help us?"

Knight nodded. "This all appears to be the hieroglyphics we're used to. Nobody agrees on an exact translation, but I agree with Doctor Ramses Saleem's interpretations. This is pretty straight forward. I can transcribe everything in hieroglyphics to English. If I run across demotic, Coptic or other known Egyptian styles, I can translate those. I can't make any guarantees if I run into anything alien. I could give a best guess, but in order to do a translation, I'd need a key."

"Like the Rosetta Stone."

"Exactly. Compensation is more than satisfactory. I just need to contact my partner and let him know he has to carry the exhibit without me for a little while."

"Doctor Saleem?"

"Oh, no! Doctor Saleem is an expert on the Ancient Egyptian language. He is not affiliated with this exhibit. No, my partner is Doctor Stephen Rhodes. He's assigned by Oxford to oversee the exhibit's tour through America." She shook her head. "What do you know? Doctor Jackson was right and I can't even tell him."

# # #

It was easy enough to confirm that Aylala was staying with Carol Lawrence, now a lieutenant. Once Simone had managed to fine that out, it was easy to discover her name and that she had been started as a sophomore in Mehlville Senior High. Simone's first step was to pull the records, only to find that no records on Aylala would available until the next semester. All she could get access to was ID, a course schedule, and the result of a skill and intelligence evaluation. The results were uneven, Aylala excelling in some fields and clearly struggling in others. One thing was certain. She knew English, and she knew it very well.

She had already observed Aylala for much of the day. She seemed to favor a leather jacket that she never took off, indoors or outdoors. She also seemed to keep a small group of friends, one of whom Simone was able to identify as Nathan Lawrence III. There were several issues that would complicate matters with Aylala. First, the state adoption board had deferred to a private adoption agency, legalizing her presence in the United States, and it appeared, based on the circumstances of her arrival, Carol Lawrence had managed to secure a hearing for political asylum. That hearing had already taken place in the Eighth Circuit Court with a DCFS working standing in for Aylala en absentia. The court had ruled in favor of political asylum. Senator Kinsey wouldn't like that.

:::The girl is to be the host of one of my siblings. She must be taken to the Stargate.:::

:::Is this going to be a regular thing?:::

:::No, ordinarily, I would be in control.:::

:::Okay, then, taking the girl to Ra is a big, fat "No.":::

:::You must acquiesce to me eventually.:::

:::You make a valid point. Let me offer this as a rebuttal: eat shit and die.:::

:::In none of my ancestor's memories has any host resisted as hard as you.:::

:::I'll take that as a compliment.:::

:::It is.:::

:::Then what will you do?:::

:::Tail her. Keep my distance. Observe her. Then when Colonel O'Neill's ready, we'll introduce ourselves and question her. Find out where she came from, what she can tell us about your friends, and if we can help her.:::

:::And if she can help you?:::

:::Better than being stuck in a concrete room at Area 51 for the rest of her life. Now shut up. I'm working.:::

:::If I can find a more suitable host, would you be willing to trade your freedom for another person's slavery?:::

:::What? I am not letting you have that little girl!:::

:::I don't mean Aylala. I mean, what would you give to secure your freedom from me? Would you let me enslave another? I would be willing, you know, and you would be free.:::

:::I guess I'd have to give it some thought. I'm not sure if I could live with myself if I did something like that.:::

Simone's radio crackled and Kawalsky's voice came over the line. "This is Major Kawalsky to Colonel's O'Neill and Porter. There is a significant disturbance down in Arnold by the Festus border. We have CCTV footage of an assailant in full body armor, all black and using weapons similar to the Jaffa, attacking a convention of some kind. Police have responded. State troopers are on their way. Arnold police are calling for military assistance. Weapons are ineffective. Repeat: weapons are ineffective."

:::Okay, just what the hell is that?:::

:::That would be one of my siblings using an advanced elite combat suit. It is quite indestructible.:::

Simone picked up the radio. "O'Neill, did you hear that?"

"I copy. Our boys at Lambert gave me a ride and I'm heading down there with reinforcements."

"Oh, Jack, It'll take you an hour to get from Downtown St. Louis to South Arnold."

"Not in a Blackhawk."

Simone paused a moment. "Sweet ride."

"You're just jealous. ETA 10 minutes. Do you have a twenty on the girl?"

"Yeah, I'm outside her school right now. Do you me to take her into protective custody?"

"Not until we see the whites of their eyes. Hang back until we have no other options. We'll deal with our newcomer."

There was a sinister laugh. :::I wish I could see that. He faces one of the gods in its invincible armor.:::

:::Jack is an industrious fellow. He might just surprise you.:::

Her radio squawked again, and Kawalsky said, "My team is on location now. I don't know what his armor is, but he just took a hit from a stinger missile and he is still coming. He's destroying anything that gets in his path." There was an explosion, followed by static, and then, "Christ, he's like the damned Terminator. That explosion was from an RPG. It did not stop him. An RPG did not stop this bastard."

Simone continued to listen while watching the school. She was becoming anxious really fast. She didn't like listening to her men getting trounced and not getting in the middle of it. Five minutes went by. Ten minutes went by, and then the radio crackled again. "This is O'Neill. I'm on location now. There are several police casualties here and a few of our airmen. Two deaths, one of them an airman, and 46 injuries in total. There is a shitload of property damage. The assailant has vanished. He has disappeared without a trace, literally."

"Disappeared?" Simone asked the interior of the car.

:::The suits are equipped with cloaking devices.:::

"Oh, now that just sucks."

# # #

Aylala had somehow managed to survive her first week of school. History class continued to surprise. It seemed one couldn't take anything that was written at face value and determining what really happened meant sifting through garbage to find the truth underneath. It was actually rather disheartening to find that history was based more on perspective than upon fact. It made her wonder if anything was real. She had expressed that feeling in class on her third, to be met with laughter from Mr. Higgins, and his suggestion that she read the writings of the Dalai Lama and Deepak Chopra who, as it turned out, had a great deal to say about the nature of reality.

It was through those authors that she began her understanding of Ra in all of his depravity. Aylala had begun a very deep self-examination based upon the beliefs of these two men, questioning her own existence. She began to recite as though a mantra, "You did not exist before you were born and you will not exist after you die, so did you ever exist at all?" It was terrifying to approach such a question from any angle, and Ra had been forced many thousands of years ago to approach that very concept. After all, it was said that one could claim immortality via one's legacy, but how long does a legacy really last? It was certain that very few people on this planet knew their own ancestry past their grandparents.

She should have moved on days ago. It was a miracle the Jaffa hadn't already found her, yet she stayed. Why? How did this cold, sprawling, technologically haywire, egotistical place hold such sway over her? She had been shunned by her family, favored by a despot, and her destiny was to lose her very soul to the serpent. Here, complete strangers took her in, clothed her, fed her, maybe even loved her. If the Buddhism that the Dalai Lama and Chopra wrote about was right, then her body and much of what she was, wasn't real, and if that was so, that meant she was transient. That which is transient longs for permanence.

That was what Ra had sought when he searched for his survival. He journeyed and desperately sought immortality. Once he had accomplished that, he sought power; the power to build a world for himself that would never change unless he wanted it to. He was transient, and he wanted control over that destiny. He had felt helpless, desperately helpless. For a moment, she almost wished she could tell him. For a moment, she didn't feel that different from the old tyrant. She didn't want to be helpless anymore. She wanted the power to control her destiny. More importantly, she wanted a home and she wanted a family that would love her.

It was Friday night and she discovered that outside the window of the guest room that had become her bedroom, there was a ledge she could easily put her feet out on, and if she stood, there was a clear step to the roof. This night was warmer than the last few days had been. She had gone into her drawer where she kept hidden the things she had snuck with her from the Alkesh. She had the zat'niq'tal, a memory crystal, and one thing she had stolen from Carol's evidence bag. It was a gate controller. It could not be read. It could not be altered. It had a single use. It in it, encoded, the Stargate coordinates of the planet it had last been activated on. It could only be used once, pointed at the control unit of the Stargate. After that, it needed to be reprogrammed. It also homed in on the nearest Stargate. The device pointed her to coordinates that she discovered was in a city called Washington, D. C.

She lied on the roof with that control module in her hand, turning it over, pressing the buttons that only performed their three individual functions. The first button would transmit when a gate was in range. The second button raised a map suspended in air in a projection known as Pepper's ghost. The third button would expand that display and overlay it over any map, automatically reading and recording the information from that map. Those two buttons also activated the homing beacon.

She wondered where her last three friends were. Jamala had lost fingers in the crash and was bleeding profusely. She hoped that she had gotten away. Rodmalga was with her. He was the strongest warrior in the village. If anyone could keep her safe, he could. Then there was Empalga. He was not much older than her and he had courted her, but she had rejected him. His arrogance had reminded him the Jaffa. Still, he had proven a true friend when he followed her on the Alkesh. He had always been standoffish since their misadventure had begun. She had begun to reconsider so faithful a friend as a mate and she approached him, he raged against her, screaming that he would never be with one like her. The words had been meant to hurt, but they had only relieved her. He always said hurtful things and she had been given an excuse never to address the matter with him again.

There were things about this planet that didn't sit well with her. Now that she stared up into a crystal clear night sky, the one thing that bothered her the most stared back at her. Almost all of the stars had gone. These Tau'ri-she was sure the people of Earth were Tau'ri-had filled their nighttime sky with false light and had drowned out the stars. It made her quite sad. The stars were so beautiful and now she could barely see them.

"Mom doesn't like it when anyone sits up here." Nate had surprised her. She didn't realize he had found her or that he had even come out, but there he was, sitting right next to her. "It's a really nice night out."

Aylala nodded, sniffing back tears. "Your sky is empty."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, the light pollution. They say entire constellations have disappeared. You know, there's a camping spot mom takes us too down in Farmington. The sky there looks nothing like this. It's far enough away from the city that you can see millions of stars. There's a place in Nevada I want to go to. They say that there's a place there that's far enough from the lights that the sky is exactly as it was before the electric light. It's the clearest night sky in the country." He stopped a moment and said, "You're really quiet, now."

"I like listening to you talk."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. How was your Tae Kwon Do class?"

"It was fine, I guess."

"Tell me about this art. What is it?"

"Well, it's karate, I guess. You know what karate is. You don't. You know all of the Shaw Brothers movies my dad watches? Well, it's kind of like that…well, I mean, they use a lot of different styles from China. Tae Kwon Do isn't Chinese, it's Korean, and umm…I'm not explaining this very well. I saw you copying what they do on those Shaw Brothers movies. I didn't know you could do that."

"It's probably not an ideal way to learn, but I already have a strong education in my tribe's fighting techniques. That makes it a bit easier for me." She looked back up and said, "Your stars; what do they mean?"

"You haven't read any books on the stars?"

Aylala shook her head.

"Well, we have an old legend that a long time ago, heroes and monsters ran across the Earth, and the heroes fought the monsters and made the world safe and that the ancient gods honored the heroes by telling their tales in the stars. That one there is Hercules. He was the strongest man in the world, but a monster drove him insane and made him kill his wife and his children. When he came to his senses, the gods made him perform twelve labors and that was how he atoned for the death of his wife. Then he was captured by Romans, and was chained to too pillars in a stadium, where people pointed and laughed at him and threw things. Romans were taking over the world and Hercules used his strength to topple the pillars and bring the stadium down. The gods gave him his own constellation so that he would always be remembered.

"That one, down a little to his right is Leo. It was a magical lion that Hercules had to beat fight in one of his labors. That one right there, almost straight up, that's the Big Dipper. It's part of a bigger constellation called Ursa Major. That was a great bear that roamed Greece and was prized by the greatest hunters. It was the goddess Artemis that brought him down. Artemis is up there somewhere too, but I don't think you see her with all the light pollution. She hunted with a bow. There's another bowhunter called Orion and he's right there; the big hourglass with the three stars as a belt. The point of the sword hanging down from the belt isn't actually a star; it's a nebula.

"On the right you can see his bow. You're kind of like Artemis, aren't you? A great huntress with a bow…"

She smiled. "I do not know about that. I am not a goddess."

"Well, you certainly look like one."

Aylala looked over to Nate and grinned, "What you are doing is called 'hitting' on me, right?"

"I-umm-well-maybe, just a bit."

"Artemis was a maiden, and I have no wish to be a maiden when I have gone past my age."

Nate's face flushed red. Aylala pretended not to notice. She pointed and said, "What's that one?"

"That's Draco. His name literally means dragon." He looked down to her hands. "What's that?"

"This? If I am to find my way back home, I will need this."

"I thought you didn't want to go back."

"I don't, but…I have friends, and they want to go back and fight. Sometimes I feel selfish for not wanting to go with them. They run to a battle to save our home while I flee to safety and comfort. Then there's something to remind me that I'm not just running away from home. I'm running from a place I never belonged. My mother tried many times to banish me, once to have me killed, but the people protected me. She should be happy I'm gone."

"But, you can't run to a battle. You're just a-"

"What? Just a child?"

"We're children. We don't fight in wars."

"I am no child. I am a woman of the tribe. I have hunted for the tribe. I have walked in the footsteps of the gods. I have killed the enemies of the tribe while my sister died next to me. I am a blooded warrior. I have killed six men; four of them with my bow, one with a weapon that I am not familiar with, and one whose throat I cut. Do not call me a child, and do not think of yourself as a child either. You can think for yourself and act for yourself." Aylala sighed. "If you knew the world I am from, you would see me differently."

"Then tell me, and I'm willing to bet that no matter what you have to say, you'll still be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and the most amazing person I've ever met."

Aylala was almost in tears. "It is a horrible thing."

"And maybe I'll know you better for it, and maybe you'll know me better for it."

Aylala calmed down and spoke evenly. "Just days after I walked the path and earned the name of woman, my brother had caught a merchant cheating our tribesmen. The merchant snuck into our village at night and sought to kill my brother as he slept. He accidently trod upon me and tried to silence me with his knife. We wrestled for the knife, but he was a small man and I was stronger. My father's bows were the first ones I ever used and they were very tight, so I had very strong arms, and I drove the knife into his throat. That started a war. My brothers and sisters all fought to defend the tribe. I was the youngest, so my eldest sister came with me. I had killed two of the merchant's allies when a bolt from a crossbow struck my sister in the ear. I killed the man that killed her and killed the merchant's brother. That ended the war. My sister was still alive when the fighting ended. She was even laughing and joking. I thought she would be okay, but she died before my mother could get to her. She died very quickly. She was laughing at a joke I had told, and then she stopped laughing and she was dead."

Nate sat for a moment, digesting all of it. "I don't know what to say. I wish you never had to go through that. The last one you killed was the one you saved my mom from. I…I wouldn't have my mom right now if you hadn't been there. What made you leave your home?"

"My people are slaves to the highest authority in our nation. We mine his ore for him and he takes the food we farm. If we do not obey, his soldiers kill us. He intended to take me as a servant in his inner court. There is only one thing they want a girl child for and it is not to serve drinks or clean floors." Nate closed his eyes in disgust. "I fled and for two years, they followed. They found me here." Aylala looked down as Nate took her hand held it in his own. She started crying, silent tears flowing down her face. "You don't know what freedom truly is. You don't know what it is not to have it, to live in a prison of terror. Now you know; the girl who is sitting next to you is not a princess or a goddess. She is a low slave with a scarred back running from her masters."

Nate brought her hand up and kissed it. "You're a goddess to me."

Aylala turned to him, her eyes wide in surprise. "You should be careful. I come from a world of strong tradition. Once you have me, it's for the rest of your life. There will be no dating this girl and that girl like you are shopping for the right shirt. Where I come from, the first one you love is the only one you love…forever." She leaned in and kissed him.

They wrapped their arms around each other. More than the intimacy of their closeness, they were enveloped in the sheer comfort of simply holding each other. "Do you really want to keep me forever?"

Aylala nodded. "Yes. You make me smile. You make me calm. I feel… secure." She kissed him again.

"But I'm nobody."

"So am I." She kissed him again.


	6. The Enemy Within

WARNING: This chapter contains an explicit description of torture.

The following Monday saw a very different Aylala from the one that had initially landed on Earth. She felt almost like her old self, if she ever had an old self. She had lived a life that went straight from innocent childhood to miserable suffering by a god's whimsy. Landing on Earth, she had been frightened and alone, her village's greatest warrior, three close friends and a brother having left Akakor with her. They were separated, two were killed, and one by his own hand, and Aylala had found herself cast in a strange new world, alone with her only perceived mode of escape destroyed.

Two weeks had changed her life, but still, she was entirely motivated to continue her flight from her foe. It would mean finding the Stargate, but it soon became apparent that this planet's Stargate was lost thousands of years ago, so long ago that those who knew of its existence had no clue of what it was. It was certain that it had been unearthed, otherwise why would it be in Washington, D. C., unless that was where it had been buried and some capitol building had been constructed over it?

This last weekend, though, had been different. She found herself considering her future on this planet. Her moment with Nate on Friday had changed everything and she hadn't even noticed. That is, until she realized that in addition to the fact that she was no longer thinking of a way off of Earth, the question of staying wasn't even an issue in her mind. How had that happened? How had she gone from desperately hoping to leave to not even entertaining the notion that she wasn't staying? Then she remembered one of Jamala's favorite sayings; "Love is the most potent mind-altering drug there is." Leave it to an apothecary to come up with that one.

Love was also the most dangerous drug there was. In addition to the highest euphoria, it could also cause the deepest depression. Aylala had remembered how her mother was; happy, blissful, and she loved and took joy in all of her children. When Aylala's father died, her mother had become a totally different person, and there was one daughter she no longer loved, and indeed hated with every fiber of her being. Aylala's mother had become as hostile and cold to her as Ra. There it was, beneath Aylala's current euphoria was an unnamed terror. There was no name for it because the shape could not be deduced. Would Nate prove to be as fickle as all of the other men on this world and discard her for another? Would they be cruelly torn from each other? Would the people whom she had come to trust and even love betray her?

Jamala had a saying for that too; "The best cure for fear of tomorrow is living today." That was all that Aylala could do. She could love Nate and settle into this new life, make her own future, and let life take her wherever it may lead. Of course, by lunchtime on Monday, it led her to an undesirable spot.

"This table's taken." Tiffany looked up from her lunch and sneered at Aylala.

Aylala said, "These are the only available seats."

"Tough shit. Eat on the floor."

Aylala ignored her and sat down anyway.

"Do you have a hearing problem?"

"I heard you perfectly well. I am simply ignoring you."

Tiffany looked as if she was going to press the issue, but decided against it. "Bitch."

"Thank you. It honors me that a fellow bitch has noticed."

Michelle snorted, spraying milk all over tray. Tiffany mocked Aylala in a cartoonish voice. "Meep, meep. Meep meepmeep meep meep meep meepmeep meep meep meepmeep."

Michelle said, "Ohhhh mygod! I am sitting next to Beeker."

"Shut up," she said. "Fine, I'll just find another table."

Aylala said, "No you won't. I told you, there is nowhere else to sit."

Nate sat down next to Aylala and said, "Hi, Ayla." Aylala smiled at the familial use of her name. Nate addressed the whole table. "Hey, we have a substitute gym teacher."

Tiffany said, "What, did Mrs. Payne need to go to the garage for a tune up?"

Nate didn't even bat an eye at the intimation that his teacher was a robot, which suggested to Aylala that it was an old joke through the school. "…go to the garage for…?"

Tiffany rolled her eyes and Michelle said, "Because she never stops. She's like a machine, you know? So why's she gone?"

Nate shook his head. "All I know is it's a family emergency. She's on leave until further notice. Instead of one of the other gym teachers taking over, we've got a new teacher: Ms. Simone Porter."

"Why couldn't Mrs. Ayler do it?"

"I don't know, but she wasn't too happy about being passed up for a sub."

Tiffany said, "Well, we may get a break."

"Don't bet on it. I sneaked a look at her sheet. I heard her to talking to one of the vice-principals. She's retired Air Force, but she started out in the Army. She was a drill sergeant."

Tiffany smiled and had a manic gleam in her eyes. "Lovely! She and Mr. Santona can eat broken glass for breakfast together, fall in love and have little psychopathic Rambo children."

Aylala narrowed her eyes in consternation and said, "That creates an interesting mental picture."

Tiffany said, "When you meet Mr. Santona, you'll understand."

Michelle said, "I thought you were going to find another table."

"I don't want to sit on the floor and you know they won't let us eat in the commons. Why, do you not want me here now? Are you tight with your newbie friend, here?"

"Hey, I want you here. It'd be nice if you back off of Aylala, though. She's a really nice girl."

Tiffany looked sulkily down in her tray. "Whatever."

Michelle turned to Nate and said, "Hey, about skipping the game last Friday, Josh, Barry, and Derrick want to know if you don't mind us doing it tonight instead."

Tiffany said, "Game, what game?"

Nate said, "Sure."

"What game?"

Michelle said, "Its geek stuff, Tiffany; Dungeons and Dragons."

A bemused look crossed Tiffany's face. "Really?" She shook her head in amazement and opened her bottle of Dr. Pepper. It sprayed all over the place and she retightened the cap. Michelle had been sprayed for a second time. Nate had managed to avoid most of it while a stream managed to spritz Aylala's face.

The whole table sat in silence for a moment, then Michelle said, "Wow, the soda machine really throws those out, doesn't it?"

Tiffany said, "You know, there's something wrong with those machines. Every time you get a soda from one, you've got to wait ten minutes at least."

Aylala said, "I just got mine." She held up her own Dr. Pepper, opened it to the panic of everyone around her, and when nothing happened, she raised to take a drink. "Cheers." This time, they all laughed, even Tiffany. When she drank, she shuddered and said, "This stuff still burns my throat."

It turned out that Nate was right about the substitute gym teacher. When they walked into the small gymnasium, there was an athletic black woman dressed in a navy blue jogging suit bearing the slogan "Be Army strong" waiting for them. She looked on her list as each student entered and when the bell rang, she said, "We are missing one." A freshman girl ran in just an instant after she said it. "What is your name?"

The girl said, "Brianna Tarver."

"That is one tardy. I'm sure you know that two more lands you in detention." Brianna nodded and the teacher said, "All right, everyone. I am your substitute teacher until further notice. Mrs. Payne expects to be gone a month but she thinks it could be longer. I do not have details of her absence so please do not ask. I am Lieutenant-Colonel Simone Porter, but Ms. Porter will do. According to Mrs. Payne, you've gone through aerobics, softball, and archery. Now as we are getting into the cooler fall season, it is time to start you on tennis. I also understand that every Monday you run. We will be doing that in a few minutes, but first I am going to call out your names and you hear it, you are to raise your hand. Brianna Tarver I already have so I am going to mark her off."

Aylala, having only one name was second on the list, a girl with the last name of Andrews being before her. Was it her imagination, or was Porter paying unusually close attention to her? Aylala returned the attention, noting an odd sheen on Porter's eyes. It was a glaze like what Ra had. She almost expected Porter's eyes to suddenly glow. When Porter turned and Aylala saw the scar on the back of her neck, her extremely short hair doing nothing to hide it, she nearly panicked. Still, Aylala got control of herself. In all likelihood, she was overreacting. She had seen many people with that peculiar sheen to their eyes, usually struggling with some sort of addiction. Porter was only human after all, and the scar on the back of her neck could have been acquired anywhere, especially for a military woman. None of this meant that Porter was possessed by one of the false gods.

Aylala ran with her classmates. Unlike Payne, Porter had them run around the building. She understood that the regular gym coach liked to run his students like this. It proved to be a grueling exercise. While many students had difficulty with the run, some seemed more than capable. Aylala found it invigorating. It was nothing like her runs through the jungle, nowhere near as challenging, but it was far different than that run around the flat, dull gymnasium floor. They were told to do two laps. On the first pass, Porter shouted, "Aylala, you are our best runner. Keep it up!"

After their run was finished, Porter had them all walk up to the tennis courts where equipment was waiting. Once again, Aylala got the impression she was being paid special attention. Porter specifically walked alongside her and followed her through the gate to the tennis courts, which were surrounded by ten feet tall cyclone fence. Alongside the courts was a gangway, on the other side of which was another chain link fence barely containing dense brush growth and bamboo. The equipment was already there, tennis balls and enough rackets for more than half of them, though there were only three courts. The rest of the hour was spent like any ordinary class. There were no more curious observations by Porter.

Nate was waiting for her by the locker room door. They ignored several students' whistling and catcalling. Aylala said, "You smell nice. You smell like strawberries."

Nate laughed and said, "Yeah, one of the seniors decided to be a douchebag and dumped his Gatorade on me."

"What is a douchebag?"

Nate turned suddenly very red and began to stutter, "Oh-uh-well…"

"You do know?"

"I know, it's just a little embarrassing, you know, especially since it's for…well, women use it."

"What do women use it for?"

Nate smiled uneasily. "Personal hygiene!"

"Women use it for personal hygiene. We're getting somewhere. What is it for?"

"Well, it is a bag filled with-I don't know-a cleaning liquid for when a lady starts to feel dirty in a certain area?"

"A certain area?"

"Are you really going to make me go through this whole thing?"

"What certain…" comprehension dawned on Aylala's face and her lips slowly formed an, "Oh…" A bemused smile crept onto her face and her face turned red also. "So you were calling the man a 'bag for rinsing inside.'"

"Yes."

"I see."

"Good, so I don't have to…"

"Whatever it is, you don't have to be embarrassed around me. I think we got to know each other well enough for that over the weekend."

Nate's embarrassment diminished and a smirk spread upon his face. "Yeah, you have a point."

Aylala looped her elbow around his and they walked down the corridor, each accompanying the other to their respective lockers. Twice, Aylala saw Porter in the hallways, not necessarily paying attention to her, but still walking through the same areas. Then as they left, Porter was talking to two teachers near where Aylala and Nate got on the bus. Aylala was sure that Porter was following her.

# # #

"So tell me about her," said O'Neill.

Simone had joined Jack for dinner at a local pizzeria called Imo's. Apparently it was a local chain that specialized in the St. Louis style pizza, a pizza with a thin, cracker-like crust and very small edges. It was alright, but she favored her Chicago deep-dish. Cut into squares, the pizza reminded her of cheap frozen pizza from the supermarket, only with better sauce and more cheese.

She said, "She seems like a good kid, very athletic and everyone says she's brilliant. She's got two French teachers and one history teacher willing to claim she's a genius. She's made a few friends. It looks like she may even be romantically involved." She took a bite and said, "Man, this pizza's crap."

Jack nodded. "It's okay. It's got nothing on New York style. Do you think she's a threat, or anything like what these people say she is?"

"I can believe what they say about her memory, but Jack, I'll be real with you. That girl wouldn't hurt anyone. She's got an attitude, she can fight, but if she had a mean bone in her body, then I saw a few kids that were overdue getting their teeth knocked out. You know how these kids are. Speaking of which, how's Sara and Charlie?"

"Oh, they're fine. I talked to Sara earlier today. Charlie joined the school baseball team."

Simone smiled. "That's good. It'd do him good to start hanging out with kids his own age. So, about this armored terror that showed up on Friday."

Jack shook his head. "Still no sign of him. I can't figure out how he just disappeared after all of the noise he made. We've analyzed those weapon's blast patterns. This guy is definitely one of our visitors."

"We're going to have to get this thing done. If this guy gets close to our girl, it's going to be game over for her. So, hell naw, you did not hitch a ride with the Army Rangers?"

"Jealous!"

"Bitch, yah!"

"Well, you weren't missing much. The seats are like sitting on rock, it was freezing in the cabin and there was barely room to move with all of the troops in there. Are you feeling okay?"

"I feel fine. Why, do I not look okay?"

"No, you don't."

"Why? What do I look like?"

"Simone, have you seen yourself lately? You're pale. You have bags under your eyes. Your lips are purple. Every time I see you, you look you just finished one of the Army's ten-mile-hikes."

Simone listened but didn't answer immediately. She couldn't tell him what was wrong. How could she tell him? Would he even believe her? "My lips are purple?"

Jack nodded. "Yes, your lips are purple. Purple, as in just-strangled-to-death purple. I'm not a doctor, Simone. I'm not even a medic, but I seem to recall something about purple lips meaning not enough oxygen going to the brain. You can always talk to Janet."

"Jack, I can handle it." She looked down and dropped her slice of pizza on the paper plate. "I'm going to find some real food." She got up and walked out of the pizzeria.

She walked down Manchester Road in a municipality called Kirkwood. This was a lively business district with high ticket store fronts and eateries. Simone viewed it all as if looking from a distance. This was the kind of suburban world Jack was uncomfortable in. She had been surprised by Jack's reaction to Scott Air, but she had to remind herself that he hadn't really spent his time on those types of bases. He was usually either serving abroad, in isolated facilities, or in smaller satellite offices. He and his wife lived in a suburban community, but it was far from any metropolitan traffic, an area that was almost rural. When he wasn't on active duty during his son's summer holiday, he was taking his family and spending most of his time at his cabin in Minnesota.

This place, Missouri…this wasn't much different. Missouri was a place where people could get away from the hustle. It wasn't at all like Florida, where no matter how rural the country was, no matter how many horse pastures or farms one came across, one was usually only a few minutes' drive from a densely populated area. Illinois was like Missouri. Simone had grown up in Chicago. That was a large enough city, but Illinois was vast, flat, with wide open areas for miles across the state.

:::The more you fight, the further you deteriorate. You cannot win, Simone.:::

Manchester disappeared around her and she found herself in the District C Missouri State Highway Patrol holding facility. Simone looked around in panic and checked her watch. Two whole hours had gone by. :::What is this? What the hell did you just do?:::

:::What did I do? Why, I merely hailed a cab and brought you to see the First Prime.:::

Simone felt her stomach drop out from under her. :::Where the hell was I?:::

:::You see? Your fight is pointless. I can take you any time you wish.:::

:::I won't be your slave. I'll die first. You think you have the power to do anything you want, but I'll bet I'm strong enough that if I put a P-90 to the side of skull and pulled the trigger, you couldn't stop that.:::

There was a moment when the creature didn't reply. :::Perhaps. You are quite strong.:::

:::You ready to take that bet?:::

:::Simone, I can promise you freedom if you do not resist.:::

:::What? You can promise me freedom if I agree to give up my freedom?:::

:::We can be as one, not like a master and a servant but as friends sharing this space.:::

:::Okay, see, here's the thing. There's this story that parents here on Earth like to tell their children. Once upon a time, there was a fox, and he was running around, hunting rabbits, and doing his whole fox thing, and then one day, he went to the river to get a drink of water. Well, see this scorpion came up and got in his grill, and the fox freaked, right? The scorpion said, "Hey, wait. Don't be afraid. I wasn't going to sting you. I simply wanted to ask you a favor. You see, I just have to get past this river and I can't swim. So you see I was just hoping that you could let me ride on you while you swim to the other side of the river." Well, the fox see, he wasn't a dummy. He said, "Not a chance. If I let you ride my back, you'll sting me and then I'll drown and die." The scorpion laughed and waved this off. "Of course I won't sting you. I told you I can't swim. If I stung you, I'd drown, too." So the fox, he couldn't deny that and he figured that the threat of drowning would be enough insurance against stinging, that he went ahead and agreed to let the scorpion ride him. Can you guess what happened next?:::

:::Given that this is clearly a fable meant to teach children, I suppose the scorpion stung the fox.:::

:::He sure did, and the fox said, "Why did you do that? Now we will both die!" The scorpion was absolutely mortified and he said, "I couldn't help it. It's my nature." Do you see where I'm going with this?:::

:::I cannot change my nature. I now possess this body as surely as you do, and I tell you, if you will allow it, we can share.:::

:::It just feels like I'm selling my soul to the devil. I can't do it.:::

:::Do you even want to know why you're here?:::

:::Why am I here?:::

:::The First Prime can tell you the identity of the elite troop. If he can do that, he may also know the frequency on which the armor operates. So you see, I am trying to serve your interests.:::

Simone approached the desk belonging to the officer on duty and she showed him her ID, putting it within a foot of his face. "I'm Lieutenant-Colonel Simone Porter, U. S. Air Force, and I need to question a suspect regarding an incident in Arnold."

The officer nodded and turned to his filing computer. "Suspect's name?"

"Unknown. He was apprehended after killing a state trooper and attempting to kill another in Farmington County."

The officer's eyes widened slightly and he looked up at her and said, "I'll need to get approval from the station supervisor if you want to see that particular prisoner."

It didn't take long. Though the state had refused to turn custody over to the Air Force, they had granted them access. When the officer had led her to the cell containing the Jaffa, she turned to him and said, "I can find my own way out."

The officer looked concerned as he said, "But ma'am, I'm supposed to stay with any visitors authorized to enter-"

"Corporal, I am a U. S. military officer of advanced rank who is here to discuss matters with the prisoner that the Department of Defense has classified for restricted authorization. I'm sure you understand that means that if you remained, you would possibly overhear material of a sensitive nature that could potentially compromise national security. I'm sure you also understand that if you remain, that will mean that I will have wasted a trip down here."

"But-"

"We're not even opening the door and I am not armed. What's going to happen? Is he going to take me hostage? I guarantee you he would regret that one." She waved her hand. "Just stand at the end of the cell block."

"I can do that ma'am, but I can't let you out of my sight."

As the officer walked away, the large bald Jaffa said, "I would regret taking you hostage, would I?"

For a moment, he and Simone looked each other in the eyes then her eyes glowed. The First Prime visibly blanched. In an otherworldly voice, soft so that only the First Prime could hear, she said, "The daughter of Ra seeks your aide. Do not prostrate yourself. They will see."

The First Prime froze, having just begun to kneel. "What can your servant do for you?"

"I was born prematurely after this Tau'ri killed my Jaffa. This vessel is inordinately strong of will. I must appease her to prevent her from exposing me to the other Tau'ri. To this end, it has become necessary to help her capture the other Jaffa."

"But my lady, if our soldiers are incapacitated, then we will not be able to complete our mission."

"The mission was doomed. The Tau'ri have not reopened their Stargate and space travel is still in its infancy on this planet. You never would have escaped. From the very beginning, they have been closing in the Jaffa. Only four remain free. I hope that they can successfully evade capture. The Goa'uld soldier however, is causing significant collateral damage. You would be appalled at the commotion she is making. These Tau'ri are mighty enough to challenge Ra. She must be stopped before she gives them cause to do so."

The First Prime shook his head in disgust and said, "The elites are always like this. They think that because they are preserved inside their armor, they can act with impunity. They endanger everyone around them, even their allies. What is it you wish?"

"I am afraid I do not possess my father's knowledge of that armor."

"Ra has no knowledge of how it works. You would have to ask Osiris and he hasn't been seen in thousands of years. A plasma discharge-electricity will suffice-should disable the suit, but only if you know the frequency it operates at."

"I know that. How do I determine the frequency?"

The Jaffa laughed. "That is an excellent question-one which I do not have an answer to. I will tell you this: if you find Aylala, you can lure the warrior to wherever you wish. I could be of greater assistance if I were to be free of this place."

"That is not within my power and it would expose me to the Tau'ri. Besides, I believe this vessel is strong enough to prevent me from taking such an action. I must return control to her very soon. She grows quite agitated when I take over for protracted periods and I fall under her mental assault. Her health is beginning to suffer because of it. She will begin to assert herself soon, if she isn't already."

"The elite is tracking Aylala's DNA trail. She will know where the girl is within a certain range, but she must be able to locate where the girl has been."

Simone slumped forward catching the bars for support. She looked up at the Jaffa. "Can you tell me how to beat this bitch?"

The First Prime smiled humorlessly. "There is no way. She is a part of your brain. You may just as well cut off your hand."

Simone left the cellblock and the officer of the watch escorted her back to the lobby. She stepped outside into the massive parking lot, a federal building facing her on the other side of the street. She walked over to a bus bench and sat, put her head in her hands and began to cry.

:::This terrifies you, doesn't it?:::

:::What? What terrifies me?:::

:::The idea of losing yourself to an intruder; it terrifies you.:::

:::What was your first clue?:::

:::Simone, I'm sorry. I'd change this if I could.::: Simone simply cried harder. :::Simone?::: She ignored the buses as they passed. :::Simone, I truly don't want to hurt you.:::

:::Of course not. You'd be hurting yourself, wouldn't you?:::

:::Simone, I am one with you. I am a part of you. I care very much about you and your wellbeing. Perhaps this hasn't occurred to you, but everything I see is through your eyes, and everything I hear is through your ears. Everything I smell, and I taste, and I touch, I experience from your grace. For these things, I depend entirely on you. I am merely a snake without you. Without another host, I would die if I left you, and I am afraid of dying. You are afraid of becoming a slave in mind, body, and soul. I am afraid of oblivion, and without a host, oblivion is my only reality. Without your brain, I am just a snake. I do not even know what I am, or who I am when I am a mere snake. I do not have your bravery. My race is famous for our cowardice.:::

:::I'm missing hours out of the day. I have big blank spots in my memory. Perhaps this hasn't occurred to you, but everything you see through my eyes and hear through my ears is not yours alone. I am missing these things and that is absolutely, positively, utterly, and completely unacceptable. You may be afraid of oblivion, but I am afraid of you, and what scares you doesn't scare me. I was going to say, "If I were you…" but since you've made it clear that we are one and I am you, I am going to tell you very carefully consider the fact that I'm not afraid of death. You give that your utmost consideration.:::

For the first time since this began, a certain clarity entered Simone's mind that hadn't been there. She realized that she could sense the presence of the creature, this Goa'uld, in her mind and she could clearly sense it cowering in distress. Simone's threat had definitely struck a nerve. She felt as if a weight had lifted off of her shoulders. For the rest of the day, and for much of the next day, the Goa'uld did not speak to her, and she enjoyed the clarity of thought that she hadn't realized had been missing. That night, she certainly slept better than she had all week.

# # #

Carol hadn't been there for the entire day. Monday was the day of the funeral for Major Deland. He was being buried in Lafayette Cemetery up on West Florissant, the oldest cemetery in St. Louis. She had told them she wouldn't be home until much later. Nate Sr. had gone with her. Nate had been to a police funeral before and it had been a fairly impressive sight, with nearly a hundred police in identical navy blue uniforms with white hats and another seven firing a twenty-one gun salute. It was much as he had imagined a military funeral. Still, he was glad he didn't have to go to this one.

That night as the gamers played, Michelle told them that Tiffany wanted to join in.

"No," said Josh. "She only wants to come because of you and you know how she is. She thinks it's nerdy. She might be pretend to be interested for a while, but then she'll get bored and she'll start whining and complaining, and the whole night will be a total loss."

Michelle said, "Actually, I told her the same thing, and she says she promises to be good." She put her archer figurine on the board near a wooded area outside Neverwinter. "You know, she's planning to ambush you tomorrow. She's got this whole speech worked out where she pleads and offers to take you on a date."

"Well, she's in for a disappointment." Rolled a d20 and said, "You're ambushed by a group of…" he rolled a d10, "…six gnoll. What do you do?"

Michelle said, "Hide in shadows."

Josh looked up and said, "Thief ability or Drow ability?"

"I can use it as a Drow ability?"

"Don't you remember last time? When you were promoted a level you got it as a new ability."

"Then, absolutely; Drow ability."

Josh looked at the board and said, "You're in dark enough shadow. It works automatically. You won't be able to use it again for another 240 turns. You'll have to use it as a thief ability."

Nate said, "Cast mirror image. Why is Tiffany in for a disappointment?"

"Okay, the gnoll see five of you now. Tiffany is definitely not my type."

Derek said, "I attack the first gnoll I see with my bastard sword plus two."

Nate said, "Is any girl your type?"

Josh said, "Nope. Wow look at that, Derek. You kill him in one hit." The d10 for the sword's hit points rolled a ten, and the d20 had rolled a 1 for THAC0.

Derek said, "Woohoo! 20 point hit."

Michelle looked at Josh curiously, then her eyes widened and she said, "Whoa, okay, I will not press the issue with you."

Barry said, "I attack with my Protector. What's wrong with girls, Josh? They're soft, warm, and cuddly." Michelle threw herself into Barry's arms as if to demonstrate.

"None of your business." Josh rolled and said, "Your Protector has the element of lightening…so…you have hit the gnoll for twelve points of damage. He attacks you with his spear. Critical miss." Josh looked up at Aylala.

Nate said, "Okay. You have to…" he picked up her character sheet and was pointing to her weapon's list.

"Right," she said, "I will cast a spell then…hold creature?"

Josh rolled his dice and said, "Success." He rolled a d6 and said, "Three of the five gnoll are now held. The wounded one is not held."

Aylala hadn't been sure about this. The game had seemed rather a silly thing. It was certainly imaginative, but she wondered at these people sitting at a table playing this game of make believe. She quickly came to realize that she had misjudged the game. Imagination was more an element than she expected and it was truly more involved than just logging numbers from a set of dice and writing down figures on a sheet of paper. She realized the purpose of the game now that she finally played. It was about people sharing this time with one another, sharing their imaginations.

One could write stories that were as mystical and unbelievable as anyone could imagine, but to roleplay in a group of people such as this was a truly remarkable experience. It was truly remarkable and disturbing how easily one's mind played tricks. It was amazing the way the mind shifted. For example, when she merely listened in on the game, and she heard Nate saying that he would like to cast Melf's Acid Arrows, it seemed silly gibberish to her. Now that she was a part of the game, it was a serious element with an important purpose. Then she realized that that was the point. Alone, the game looked like nonsense, but with other people to participate, one could easily believe that that world was real. Aylala could now see the charm, and could even enjoy the participation.

They played from three until almost seven. That was when the game began to wind down. They had ended that night in a city called Waterdeep. Of course, everyone had left around that time because most of their parents expected them home for dinner. That was why Friday and Saturday were the preferred days for this game. Nobody except Derek had an early curfew on those days. Still, Carol and Nate Sr. still weren't home and Nate found himself home alone with Aylala. He was only partially successful at cooking her a dinner that involved real, non-processed food. If Aylala hadn't been there, he never would have been able to put that fire out.

Between him and Aylala, they actually managed to make a good meal, and they were somewhat successful at cleaning up the kitchen afterwards. They finished the evening on the couch where she curled up in Nate's arms.

# # #

Carol and Nate Sr. had made it home after ten. Nate was asleep but Aylala was still up. She marveled that Carol's cast could not be seen under the dress uniform. Carol was concerned at first, but when Aylala said that she couldn't sleep on account of a racing mind, Carol offered several home remedies, all of which Aylala declined.

In truth, it was bothering Aylala that she was keeping so much from Carol, but what could she tell her? That she was an alien from another planet; she was in love with her son; she had gone so far in that romance that by the laws of her tribe, she was married to Carol's son. What could she say? None of it seemed even remotely believable. When Carol sat down next to her, Aylala knew her resolve, her will to protect Carol from a frightening truth was about to be tested.

Carol said, "Aylala, you know you can talk to me."

How Aylala wished that were true, that she could simply lay her burdens at the foot of a responsible adult, who on this planet, it seemed, could handle any situation. It was a bit sad, the illusions that parents on this planet raised their children by.

Carol continued. "I know that you and my son are romantically involved. I also know that you've had a very rough ordeal. Aylala, I know what this sounds like, and it's not. Really, I'm very happy I've brought you into my home. I'm really glad you're here."

"My whole life has been a rough ordeal," said Aylala. "Here, in this world, you treat each other like possessions. Not only people claim people, but they discard them just as casually. This word divorce is strange to me in any language. Where I come from, once a man and a woman has consummated, they are bonded for life. There is no playing field, or market, or going steady. Death does not even separate that bond. In your world, you say, 'Until death do you part', but you never part. When your mate dies, a part of you dies also. Death does not separate you."

Carol looked at Aylala, her eyes searching. "Have you consummated?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, but she knew she had to. It was her son. It was Nate that they were talking about.

Aylala turned red as she considered her answer; well, after all, it had been a very personal question. "Yes."

Carol sighed. "You know, Nate is a very mature boy, but I think you know, probably even better than me, that your world and his are separated by leaps and bounds. You'd never leave him, would you?"

"I'd follow him anywhere. I'm more frightened of what he will do. I have come to know this world. Men here just get wife after wife without regard for the one that came before. I think he is honest when he says he won't, but the future changes all things."

Carol put her hand on Aylala's shoulder. "Oh, I promise, sweetheart, you ain't got to worry about that. I'll make sure of it."

Aylala looked up with pleading eyes. "I am so sorry. I know I shouldn't have, but I've wanted a proper family for so long. I just want a normal life."

Carol pulled Aylala into an embrace. "There's no need for the waterworks. It's done now, it can't be undone, and I can't be happier with the daughter-in-law that I get in the deal. Never you worry. It'll all come out in the wash."

"Carol," Aylala said, but then her voice caught in her throat. It was difficult to live in the untenable position of having to choose between two lives. Should she take a chance at a new life of happiness and peace, or did she have an obligation to home that no longer welcomed her as a sister. "Do you know what they say about the crash?"

Carol said, "Yes. They said, 'Don't ask.'"

"Do you know about the crash?"

"I saw it. Everybody saw it. They were smashed to bits, but they were like nothing anybody ever saw before. Me, well I only got to see the sight from a distance. The Air Force needed help securing it because there were armed men in the woods. I had to sit and wait on account of my shoulder. Medics were checking you out. It was a hectic day. They said a lot of things about the wrecks."

"I was on it."

Carol observed her a moment and said, "That's why I didn't tell Colonel O'Neill about you. Are you ready to tell me where you come from?"

"You won't believe me, or you'll think I am insane, or deluded."

"Aylala, you are the most honest, level-headed fourteen-year-old I have ever met, and I've met people twice your age with less than half of your sense, or none at all."

Aylala's eyes started to burn. This was a fine time to start crying. When did she get so weak? "Do you believe the things they say about the wreck?"

"That depends. What do they say about the wreck?"

"Please, this is so hard already. Ra wished me to be his daughter. I would have been nothing but a vessel for a parasite that he would put in me. My mother poisoned my friends and family against me. There were only a few people that didn't listen to her and they helped me escape."

"But what is so secret? Aylala, you look perfectly human to me. This thing you're not telling me; it can't be true. You're human."

Aylala closed her eyes. Carol's decision to reveal what she knew had lifted a weight off of Aylala. Carol would believe her. She was sure of it now. "Yes, I am human. A long time ago, Ra was dying. His entire race was going extinct. Ra, he feared death more than anything else and he was seeking a way to prolong his life. It is written that he found a planet rich in life and there he found us. He learned that he could possess one of his, and when he did, he gained that human's vitality, and so he chose to live in his human vessel. Most importantly, he learned that with his technology, our bodies were so simple he could repair any damage and prolong life indefinitely. He had achieved immortality.

"He conquered this world and took humans as slaves. He took them to planets all over the universe to mine his mineral, to grow his food, to maintain his empire. He's weapons and his army is mighty, but he is weak. With nothing but spears and swords you drove his armies off, all because he was afraid he would die in the battle, so he fled this world. Earth was free, while the rest of humanity remained firmly under his heel.

"His favorite game is Chess. There are certain planets he comes to each year to monitor his slave operations. These are where his slaves mine his power source, the rock that fuels his weapons and his ships. When I was seven, I was one of numerous girls selected for consideration for becoming his next 'daughter'. The lucky winner would be possessed by one of his children; immortality in exchange for your soul. That was when he discovered me. I did not know at the time what he was choosing me for, but he asked me to play a game. I had never seen the game before. So he explained the rules to me and how the pieces moved, and we played. I won the first time.

"He usually flies into a rage when he loses a game, but I was different. I had one on my very first game and that impressed him. He made me play again to make sure it wasn't beginners luck. Then he made me play again and again. He did not put his child in me yet, but how was I to know that that was what he planned, or that I had to be groomed first? I never lost a game to him. Every time he came to Akakor, he insisted I be brought straight to him. He treated me like a princess, and we played Chess, hour after hour, day after day. I prayed that if I escaped this madman, I would never look at another Chess board.

"Then when I was nine, I refused to play anymore. He dressed me in fine Egyptian silk while my family slept on dirt and hay. He fed me the finest foods of a thousand worlds while my family starved. I would not play to his hedonistic absurdity any longer. Within mere minutes of my decision, Ra made me watch as he had my father tortured to death. My mother blamed me. She said that it was I that killed my father, and I believed her. Sometimes, I still believe her. My mother became a different person. For a time, my brothers and sisters stood by me, but my mother was Ra's high priestess in my tribe, a woman of faith, and the typical religious rhetoric was pounded into their heads day after day after day ad nauseum.

"Then came the tribe war with the merchant guild when I came of age and became a woman of the tribe. My brother had caught a thief and that thief tried to kill my brother. He woke me instead and tried to cut my throat, but I am an archer, and he was no warrior. My brother knew why I had killed him. They all knew, but mother blamed me for the war. We fought and my eldest sister died fighting alongside me. I avenged her death while she still lived and killed the merchant's brother, ending the war. Mother blamed me for my sister's death, too, insisted that I should have died instead, that better still, she should have drowned me when I was born. That was two years ago.

"Just days later, I learned the truth of what Ra intended for me. I always answered his summons. I always tried to get away from him as soon as I was allowed so it was easy to come up with a pretense for exploring his imperial ship and finding its hangers. For days, I learned all I could about the small alkesh. I didn't think I'd be able to steal one of the larger tal'teks or lo'teks. Ra still had several years before he was prepared to make me a goddess, but I was ready to leave now. I had nothing to stay for, and there were those who sympathized with me who were willing to help. So I taught a co-pilot all that I had learned from the alkesh's flight manual. Then we learned together upon our escape. Six of us came. Two are now dead and I do not know the fate of the other three.

"Lately, they talked about going back and fighting Ra, driving him off. I did not want to go back. I wanted a quiet life. I do not want to be a warrior, and I think that might be why I have lingered here. When I fell in love with your son, it was so easy to forget about that other world. Binding myself to him guaranteed I would never leave, and I could never leave him. I am his forever, but there is something in me that wants to pay Ra back for what he did to my father. The Jaffa brought my father to the steps of his ha'tek, his hands bound. Then they cut his hands off."

"Aylala," Carol said softly.

"And they tied him to the steps and they whipped him until he choked on his own blood."

"Aylala…"

"They set fire to his-to his-to his groin."

"Aylala…"

"They cut his feet off…and Ra told him…he told him that his life would be spared if he could stand on the stumps of his ankles and walk to me and with the stumps of his wrist pick me up from where the Jaffa were holding me, forcing me to watch, holding my eyes open. He did it. He walked to me. He didn't stumble once. He picked me up…Ra lied. One of the Jaffa stabbed my father in the back of his knee. Then they whipped him again until he was unconscious. The First Prime, the man who killed your partner, drove a hook into the wound the made behind his knee and hung my father from the hook. Ra said that he had said he would spare my father's life; not that he would let him do what he wished with it. My father took three days to die."

"Aylala," Carol drew her into a hug and Aylala buried her head in Carol's good shoulder, "I don't believe your father would want you to torture yourself over what happened. You had nothing to do with his death."

"Ra…he…"

"He is an abuser and a control-freak. No matter what you did, he would have come up with a reason, any reason to prove that he was in control. You couldn't have done anything to change what happened."

"Do you believe me?"

"Every word. Now you listen to me; you never have anything to fear in this house. That front door is in a steel frame in a concreted wall. That wall has a steel frame and a steel plating. The door has high security locks. The other doors are the same way. The windows are all bulletproof glass and if anyone gets through any of it, we are armed to the teeth. I have M-1 Carbines with folding stocks. I have riot guns. I have full riot gear. I have tear gas grenades. Last but not least, there will never come a time when you are not welcome behind these walls."

Aylala looked up, her eyes red and wet. "You don't think I'm lying or imagining it?"

"I know what I saw, and I know what I heard, and I know I didn't imagine that." She brushed Aylala's hair out of her eyes. "Now come on. It's way past time for bed."

Aylala said, "I feel better, now."

Carol nodded. "That's an awful big thing to hold on to. From the sound of it, you didn't have anyone to share it with. You learn a bit about psychology in law enforcement. When the victim of a crime feels like she can't talk to anyone, she ends up feeling like she has to carry the burden by herself, that she's all alone."

"I don't feel alone anymore."

"You're not alone. Tell me; if your ship's destroyed, how did you plan on getting your friends back to Akakor?"

"I planned on using the Stargate."

"The Stargate?"

"Every world that Ra brought humans to has one. They are older even than his race. The builders are long lost, but the Stargates remain, and if you know how to work it, you can literally step off one planet and onto another."

Carol wondered about that, but it was late, and she doubted she would understand. "Go on, you'll feel better once you've gotten some sleep."

Carol, for her part, got no sleep at all. She laid on the bed with her eyes wide open, her husband snoring softly next to her. She was haunted by images of torture and slavery, with a faceless overlord presiding, eyes glowing in darkness. She struggled with whether or not she believed Aylala. After what she had seen, she couldn't dismiss anything the troubled teenager had said. That which truly frightened Carol was that she wasn't sure that she didn't believe.

# # #

Aylala couldn't sleep either. She wondered if she could get away with sneaking into Nate's room-she needed the comfort he would be able to offer. After some consideration, she decided against it. A lamp from a street on the other side of a house behind the yard shined into her room, casting a faint light, through the branches of walnut trees. For a moment, the shadows went deeper than usual. Her attention was drawn straight to the window. She got up quietly, opened her dresser drawer and retrieved the zat'niq'tal she kept hidden in it.

She crept to the window and slowly looked out the curtains. There was nobody there. Leaning against the glass, she could see nobody hanging from the gutters, but she did see a shadow in the tree branches off to the right, awkwardly trying to plant a foot on the roofing shingles. No Jaffa would be so buffoonish. There was also something familiar about how that sleek feminine form so farcically dangled from the branches, her feet barely holding to the edge of the roof. Aylala opened the window and climbed out. She lied in her spot on the roof and watched her old friend struggle with her acrobatics.

When Janala finally found her way safely onto the ledge, she said, "When were you going to help me?"

Aylala smiled. "It's only ten feet to the ground." She got up and went to her friend. "What happened?"

"Rodmalga and I are all that are left. Empalga sacrificed himself to keep me from being killed." Aylala closed her eyes in dismay. She looked down at Janala's hands. She was too young to have such wrinkled hands. Such came with working in the dirt. The left hand ended at the knuckles where all four fingers were severed by a staff blast. The burnt stumps had mostly healed. Aylala massaged Janala's ruined hand. "Tell me what happened."

Aylala told her everything that had happened, throwing the water moccasin at the Jaffa, walking along the road, hiding in bushes while the Jaffa confronted the police and then rescuing the policewoman, and everything since.

Janala clasped Aylala's shoulder with her good hand and said, "I know what you will do. Let me tell you; don't. What you have found here, that was our goal to begin with."

"I must at least see you safely through the Stargate. I know where it is. I do not think the Tau'ri know how it works. It has no power, but the Stargate can adapt to anything. It shouldn't be a problem."

Janala regarded Aylala carefully. "I was right. I told Rodmalga it was better not to come to you. If you had found a new life, you would be happier believing us dead. Go to your new life. The Jaffa will never know you are here. You are my brother's daughter and I want you happy and safe."

"I could never be happy thinking you were dead, and I will go to my new life. You know I cannot leave it now, but I am the only one who knows how to work the Stargate. You need that at the very least."

"You have the code?"

"No it is stored in the returner, but I have it. It will take you home and you can build a resistance. Return to me tomorrow. I will have devised a plan. I will have food for you, too."

"Oh, thank you. It has been hard. We do not understand their language and they insist that people give them this ridiculous green paper for all that they do."

Aylala smiled. "Yes, I know. It is called money."

Janala hugged Aylala and said, "On the morrow, then." She leapt back to the tree.


End file.
